Cry of the End
by TealEmpress
Summary: The Ender-Dragon is a terrible tyrant, and the Enderman race is split between those who Follow and those who Rebel. Their only hope of overthrowing the Dragon's rule lies in one plucky youth by the name of Sylas Sunvaez, but he's been banished to the Overworld…
1. Banishment

**Banishment**

The chief justice's pale green eyes were cold and emotionless, boring into Sylas's soul. "The Royal Council finds you guilty of treason for partaking in a Rebellion, fraternizing with Rebels and aiding them. Is there anything you wish to say in your defence?"

Sylas was silent.

"You have chosen silence as your response," she observed, in her chilling monotone drone. "Very well. Let it be known that the only reason you shall not face capital punishment for your crime is that royal blood courses through your veins. In that respect, you shall be banished."

The general public watching the trial murmured unhappily from their seats on the benches. The horde of commoners were obviously upset that no heads would roll, but it didn't matter. Either way, nothing they said would hold a bit of clout. Sylas would be banished in any case. The purple-eyed Enderman was a Rebel, and his fate had been sealed the moment this kangaroo court found out he had worked in the ranks of those who resisted against _her_ rule.

"Guilty," Monyka, the chief justice repeated, her ominous dark grey cloak swishing as she brought her arm up to tap the gavel on the table.

Sylas looked up at her, looked up at her dull empty eyes and blank visage. This is what years of thinking like that tyrant had brought about. She had no original, imaginative thought anymore, just a twisted sense of "justice." The young Enderman felt almost sorry for her. Surely she had been bright and happy long ago, when she was young...before the poisoned agenda of the Followers (or the Lemmings, as Sylas liked to call them) had infected her mind.

"Take him to the portal," Monyka said.

Sylas stood straight and held his chin high with princely uprightness as two burly guards locked their meaty paw-hands around his lean but solid upper arms. With none too much effort, they lifted him a few inches off the ground and dragged him outside the castle while the gentry catcalled and shouted at him. His claws scraping the bumpy, pale End-stone, they carted him past stacked End city towers and groves of skeletal Chorus Fruit trees, over to where a large, circular fountain of solid bedrock waited. Portal guards slipped miniature Ender Crystals into slots upon poles round its perimeter, activating the portal that would expel Sylas from his homeland. Sylas glanced at it. The harsh contrast of dark and light in bold bands on the indestructible stones and the thought of their hard, ancient, immovable heft was unnerving. Within the walls of the fountain, a restless dark surface bubbled and undulated with windless waves. Stars and comets twinkled in its profound depths.

The guards, glaring at him with their glowing broccoli-green eyes, hoisted him above their heads and held him poised above the swirling goo of the portal. Sylas looked down calmly as the dark glop rippled and stirred menacingly below.

"Any last words?" one grunted in his stupid, brutish voice.

Sylas was silent yet again.

"Figures. Well, see you never," the other remarked in his sharp, hissing tones.

With that, they released their grip and Sylas slipped through the portal into the unknown.


	2. Awakening

**Awakening**

No lengthy and abstruse poem scrolled past his vision. Sylas awoke to a slight headache and a muddled feeling clouding his brain. He rubbed his eyes, twisted round from lying on his belly to sitting on his rear, and stretched his stiff arms and legs. As the grogginess cleared, he pulled his legs into a pretzel-sit and glanced about his surroundings curiously.

The sky was bright and soft blue, a far cry from the bruised purple sky of the End. Plump white day clouds drifted across the sky like lazy sheep, watched by a blazing gold sun. Under the tall, stalwart oaks and birches shielding the understory from the gleaming sunlight, the ground was covered in plush green grass. Sylas bent his face to the ground and sniffed, taking in its cool, earthy scent. Clumps of tall grass tickled his arms and face, and over the hill upon which he sat, dustings of colourful wildflowers broke up the endless green. The wind whispered through the trees, making the leaf-cloaked boughs rustle with their reply.

Smiling, Sylas stood up and brushed the dirt and grass off of his clothes. He started walking, not teleporting, because he wanted to go a little slower. The sights and sounds were well worth it. Songbirds chuckled in the trees overhead, occasionally joined by the excited chattering of a squirrel or the caw of a raven. It was a pleasantly warm day, fed with cool, refreshing breezes playing past-much nicer than the cold, windless days in the End.

Sylas teleported to the top of a tall tree so he could get a bearing on where he was. Sitting in the crook of two large, solid branches at the top of the stately oak, he looked out at the surrounding country. Beyond the emerald hills of forest wherein he roamed currently, there was a wide ring of a grasslands with a section of dry, yellowish grass and peculiar twisted trees with flat tops-acacias in a savannah. Some proud stone mountains loomed as a blue ridge on the horizon behind him, cutting off the forest before it could thin out into plains. All of this was the mainland island, stretching out to beaches of creamy sand on the its other three sides. Smaller islands floated in the glittering blue ocean beyond.

So this was banishment, eh?

Some punishment this was meant to be!

 **A/N: Sorry about the short chapter. Longer stuff is to come. :)**


	3. Exploration

**Exploration**

Sylas slid down the tree, claws skimming across the rough, bumpy bark. His paw-feet hit the ground with a barely audible _thump_ and he stepped away, brushing dirt flecks off of his hands. Oh, this new world was so wide and far! To where should he go first? Sylas nibbled a claw absentmindedly, thinking about it, then decided on that interesting savannah-plain beyond the forest, within the ring of grasslands. Those twisted trees had piqued his curiosity.

He started walking in its direction, a peaceful, unhurried stroll. He guessed that he was travelling in a northerly route, but he couldn't say for sure. The interdimensional travel had thrown off his innate sense of direction. Well, that didn't really matter. He'd reach the plains-ring eventually, and even if he missed the savannah he could just keep going round the circle until he found it.

As Sylas walked, he watched the birds flit from branch to branch, squawking at each other over whatever it is that birds quarrel about. Squirrels scrambled up and down tree-trunks frantically, holding acorns in their mouths. Preparing for autumn and then winter, no doubt. But as interesting as the little critters were, Sylas wondered what other kinds of animals there were to be found here.

There hadn't been much in the way of animals back in the End. His fellow Endermen didn't count as "animals," of course, and besides them, there was just a small population of shulkers. And, of course, the Ender-Dragon, that terrible tyrant that held the entire dimension under her iron claw and made her people miserable. Should the Endermen band together, they might be able to defeat her, but as long as their race was split into Followers and Rebels, it would never happen.

Sylas shook his head to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts from his brain, at least for now. This wasn't the time for brooding over the crisis in the End. Someday he'd return, someday he'd make things right again, but for now...the green-eyed Followers were too strong for him to stand against. When he returned, he would have to return with something to weaken their force.

By the time Sylas came out of his daydream, only a thin line of trees separated the forest from the open savannah. He broke through and stepped out onto the dry, crunchy grass. Instead of the vibrant green of the forest, the savannah-grass was a more yellow-brown colour, not particularly attractive, but well-adapted for life under a hot sun. Indeed, it was considerably warmer here in the savannah, and its bright blue sky was nearly empty save for a few slim, thirsty cirrus clouds hanging low over the horizon. Under the glassy sky, the mostly level terrain stretched out until it touched the beaches that made the edge of the mainland-island. Copious tall grass swayed in the hot breeze, crinkling and rustling.

Intrigued, Sylas teleported a little deeper into the grassland. He landed about forty feet away from his initial spot in a puff of purple dust. The dust immediately swirled away and dissolved into the air.

A low neigh broke the near-silence. Sylas whipped round to face the source of the noise. Not more than ten feet away, a black horse stood squarely, curiously taller than the other horses, with powerful legs sheathed in muscle, the hairs of its shining raven mane and tail dancing in the wind. Chewing on a mouthful of grass, the horse turned its head and regarded Sylas with stoic honey-coloured eyes. It seemed completely unfazed by his presence.

Sylas, on the other hand, was delighted by the first large animal he'd seen since his recent arrival to the Overworld. He had been told stories of horses as a little one, but had never seen one in person until now. What a marvellous animal it was!

Sylas ran his hand down the horse's broad, long snout, stroking the fine velvety hair. The horse, delighted to be petted, nickered happily.

The Enderman smiled at his new horse friend. "I think I shall call you Noctis."


	4. Desperation

**Desperation**

Back in the End, however, things were not so idyllic.

"It has happened again," Kalvin, one of the leading Rebels, said gravely. He and a handful of other Rebels were in a hidden End-stone cave, a distance from the bustle of the cities and closely guarded obsidian towers.

He laid a consoling paw-hand on the shoulder of his friend, whose thin form was convulsing with barely contained sobs. The limp body of his pearl-mate was draped across his arms. Oily tears leaked from the corners of his dull purple eyes.

"Why?" he choked. "Why did it have to be her?"

"Please, sir, please stay calm. Tell us what happened," another Rebel requested.

The widower swallowed another sob and struggled to form the right words. "We were...building a new tower...for the city, y'know...but then...but then...she...the Dragon...she...swooped down and she...she…" He started to cry, the tears cascading freely down his face.

Kalvin patted the other Rebel, Bayata, behind the back, guiding her away from the grieving Enderman. He leaned close and whispered to her, "He has suffered much. Give him time."

"And so the Ender-Dragon murders one of us in cold blood yet again," said Bayata scornfully. She shook her head. "I just don't understand it."

"Nor do I," Kalvin agreed. "I suppose the best we can do is try to fight back."

"Oh, Kalvin!" she cried. "How many, how many has it been?"

Kalvin swung his head from side to side slowly. "Too many to count."

"Any is too many," Bayata added. Her voice fell to a low whisper as she listed her grievances: "Killing us for no reason. Forcing us to spend all night keeping every one of those blasted Ender Crystals running so she can indulge herself in their energy and power. Sending her lemmings throughout the city to accuse innocents of treason and insurrection and all that rot. It's too much! And where in the wide End has Sylas gone? He was one of our best members. He couldn't have just stolen away-gone rogue..." She trailed off as she caught Kalvin's stare.

The Enderman's silence spoke volumes.

"...Sylas is gone, isn't he?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Kalvin looked down at the ground, then up at her, and nodded sadly.

"Dead?" she squeaked.

"Banished," Kalvin corrected.

Well, that was hardly a relief. Bayata sighed deeply. "They found him out, then?"

"Indeed. I didn't see his arrest (I doubt not it was a dreadful ordeal) but I was fortunate to be able to lie low at his trial-ha, hardly a 'trial' in that kangaroo court; more like an instant damnation, I'd say!-and observe, for as you know, once the Followers begin to, well, _Follow_ , they lose their ability to tell what colour one's eyes are. They could not have deduced that mine were purple."

"Right," Bayata concurred. "Because their minds are poisoned. What did you see and hear at Sylas's trial?"

"Specifically, the charges he was convicted on were 'partaking in a Rebellion, fraternizing with Rebels, and aiding them.' Sylas was silent. He said nothing in his defence. The Monyka declared him officially guilty and sentenced him to banishment. She said the only reason that he wouldn't be executed for his deeds was that he was a prince of the End."

Bayata closed her eyes, dipped her head, and sighed. It was a profound, hopeless sigh that broke Kalvin's heart. He had to do something to lift her spirit.

"Sylas will return someday. Have a little faith."


	5. Emergency

**Emergency**

A loud cry cut through the air and rang through Sylas's ears, a shrill, female screech of fear. Then there was another, and another. Sylas glanced round frantically and in confusion, trying to trace the origin of the noise. The noise was familiar, and the realisation hit Sylas in the gut like a punch. One of his own kind was making that noise!

He closed his eyes to shut out his sense of vision and thus sharpen his hearing. Again the cry sounded. The subtle variations of volume and direction became clearer, and Sylas now had a hazy idea of where it was coming from. Sylas opened his eyes and teleported rapidly, closing the distance between he and the distressed wailer. Whoever it was, they were in danger, and Sylas could only pray he would make it there in time.

He came to a screeching halt in a flowery plain, near a small pond of water. He gasped as the scene before him unfolded. It was a battle, a deathmatch between an Enderwoman and a group of two gigantic spiders and two creatures with rotting green skin and tattered clothes. She was losing. Her arms and legs were covered with cuts and stab wounds that oozed with bright red blood, and she looked no more than five steps away from falling into the pond. The spiders, hairy black bodies supported by eight slim, angular legs, and the zombies, who gurgled and snarled to show their mouths full of broken teeth, slowly closed in on their victim.

Instantly, burning hot hatred bubbled up in Sylas's being. If he didn't act soon, those monsters would kill the outnumbered Enderwoman. And he wasn't going to let that happen. He screamed a jarring battle-cry and rushed at the assailants. He drew his claws-four-inch-long talons with serrated undersides-and bared his huge bleach-white fangs. Every hair of his short, fuzzy fur stood on end, and his royal purple eyes blazed with ferocity.

The four monsters pivoted to face him. The spiders cowered a little and even the zombies' spinach-green faces went pale at the sight of the furious Enderman running into the fray. The closest zombie spent just a half-second too long staring stupidly at Sylas. In that half-second, the Enderman's terrible claws were plunged into its arm.

The zombie howled and thrashed before wresting its arm away from Sylas's talons and bringing up a chipped stone sword held in his other hand to swing. The sharp, jagged stone blade sliced a shallow gash across the Enderman's shoulder. It was far from a critical wound, but it was enough to make Sylas, who was not used to having pain inflicted on him, stagger backwards in surprise. The monster would have struck again, but the Enderwoman took advantage of this momentary distraction to kick the other zombie into the pond. The kicked undead man landed in the water with a heavy splash and stuck its head above the surface a couple seconds later, flailing its arms wildly to stay afloat.

Meanwhile, Sylas now had to deal with the spiders as well as the second zombie. Keeping the latter at bay with periodic kicks, he focused on the spiders. One spider leapt at him and he sliced his claws across its face. The spider hissed loudly in pain and drew back, partially blinded from having its eyes scratched. The other managed to land a few bites on Sylas's ankles before making the mistake of jumping at him. Sylas seized the spider in his grip and discoursed the struggling arachnid with a bite of his own to its neck. The spider went limp in his hold and he tossed it away in disgust.

By now, the zombie had taken too much damage from being repeatedly kicked away by Sylas's dynamite-packed foot. It staggered backwards past the Enderwoman, fell into the pond, and sank like a rock. The other one climbed slowly out of the pond, growling angrily, but the Enderwoman knocked it back into the water with a daring sucker punch to its face.

The other spider, once it had recovered, sprang at Sylas again, but again he captured it in his iron grip and finished it off with a fatal bite to the neck. Rubbing his tongue over his teeth and spitting to get the unpleasant taste of spider out of his mouth, he tossed the corpse aside and went to work on the last zombie. It had crawled out of the pond once again, only to meet with Sylas's wicked claws. Within half a minute, it was lying dead on the ground. With the four predators eliminated, the night was quiet once again.


	6. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

Panting from the ordeal of the fight, Sylas turned to the Enderwoman. "Have you injury of any sort?" he asked, offering her his hand to help her stand up.

She blinked, then responded, "A few cuts…" She reached up and let him close his paw-hand (claws retracted) around hers. In a fluid motion, he slowly drew his arm back, taking hers with it, and she wobbled to her feet.

"Nothing a little aloe and spider-silk gauze couldn't solve," Sylas assured her. He smiled, then realised he was still holding on to her hand. His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and he reluctantly let go of her paw.

"I was sure that monster was going to make an end of me," the Enderwoman said. "...No pun intended. Thank you, sir...sir...ah…"

"My name is Sylas. Sylas Sunvaez." He introduced himself and gave her a small, respectful bow. "You are welcome, ma'am. May I ask how _you_ are named?"

"I'm Solarae Koronah…" she said shyly. Sylas smiled at the lady whose life he just saved. She was lean, lithe, and graceful, standing just a few inches shorter than he. Even though her practical grey sweater and purple plaid skirt were torn and muddy from the struggle, no amount of mud and mire could dim the sparkle of vitality in her bright magenta eyes. They glittered like a pair of flawless amethysts.

"A beautiful name," he breathed.

"Thank you. Yours is very refined, too-ooh, ow!" Solarae winced and rubbed the stinging cuts on her arms.

"Hang on...I think I have a handkerchief in my pocket." Sylas fished around in the pocket of his silver velvet tunic-shirt. His hand closed around a slip of delicate fabric. He pulled out a clean, fresh silk hanky. He handed it to Solarae. "I don't have any spider silk, but that should do to help wipe up some of the blood."

"But you're bleeding, too." Solarae pointed to the gash on his shoulder.

"Bah! You need it more than me right now." Sylas waved off her attempt to give the handkerchief back to him.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

Solarae wiped the blood off of her wounds. Within minutes, the hanky was red and pink, not white, and she held the limp piece of fabric out in front of her dubiously.

"Oh, dear," she remarked, eyeing it.

Sylas shrugged. "It's quite all right. It's but one simple hanky." He plucked some leaves from bushes planted round the pond and helped Solarae tie them over her cuts as makeshift bandages. Solarae lashed together several large leaves into a big bandage and wrapped it about Sylas's shoulder, patching his wound.

"Thank you," said he when she tied the leaf securely.

"Don't mention it," said Solarae. "You said that your name was Sylas Sunvaez. Are you really from the End?"

 **A/N:**

 **Sorry, another short chapter. The next one is a lot longer.**


	7. Civilisation

**Civilisation**

"...So I stole a bunch of chorus fruit the masons were going to make into purpur so they could build a new tower, and then I ate it all," Sylas said, telling Solarae a story about the days of his youth as a prince of the End.

Solarae laughed. It was a beautiful, musical sound. "Oh, Sylas, you little sneak! I'll bet you got in so much trouble with your parents…"

"Not as much trouble as I got in with my stomach," Sylas joked, patting his belly. "Worst tummy-ache of my life!"

They both broke out laughing again, but when it died down, Sylas's tone grew more serious. "But all that was before the Ender-Dragon took over."

Solarae nodded, her smile fading into a sober expression.

Sylas shook his head, recalling the memory. "Terrible day that was, yes. A manifestation of dark magic-leaked in from the Nether, that's what most of us think-just swooped in and overwhelmed the entire population. No way to fight her. She was much too powerful. Granted, there weren't as many of us then as there are now, but still. She took over as a tyrant and all but threw away the house of royalty that we had for centuries."

"That's really sad," said Solarae. "But how did you escape the End?"

"Rebellion," answered Sylas. "The Endermen race split into two-Followers and Rebels. I was one of the latter faction. They found me out, and I was banished."

"Oh…" Solarae whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Sylas waved his paw-hand dismissively. "It's not your fault. Besides, I'd take the Overworld over the End any day. This place is amazing!"

Solarae blushed. "You truly think so?"

"I know so. I wonder what's over those mountains, (he pointed at the misty, hazy outline of the mountains in the distance) though."

A wide grin crept across Solarae's mouth. "I know what's over them."

"Really? You do?" Sylas blinked and looked at her attentively. "What?"

"My home."

* * *

Sylas stared in awe at the towering oak trees, looming hundreds of feet overhead with their branches stretching to the heavens and casting a great cloak of shadow over the floor below, the shades growing as the sun sank towards the fiery western sky. Dozens of small oaks clustered round their bases, undoubtedly the posterity of these great father trees. In the crooks of the mighty branches were tree-houses, sometimes as many as ten to a single branch, cleverly nestled within the trees' capable arms. The tree-houses, made mostly of raw logs and overgrown with foliage, blended perfectly with the ancient wood, looking almost as if they had grown there by themselves. They were as naturally a part of the trees as leaves and acorns.

Solarae noticed his awestruck gaze, and grinned. "You like them? These trees have been here for ages. They were planted when animals first stepped off a great wooden boat, and our folk started building the tree-houses none too long afterward."

"It's...it's astounding." Sylas, even with his princely eloquence, struggled to find the right word to describe the Tree City.

"And it's home! Come! We are always delighted to add another member to our tribe," Solarae chirped, dancing ahead of him on the beaten dirt path into the heart of the city. It took them past some farm plots and gardens (which were, incidentally, missing water canals for irrigation) filled with rows of wheat, carrots, potatoes, and a lot of other crops Sylas didn't recognize, like a tall brown herb with fluffy white puffs popping out of it, or curious green plants that resembled tiny trees. Some of the gardens were miniature parks with lithe young saplings and patches of colourful flowers in full summer bloom.

The quietness was broken by a steady rhythm of bleats and oinks as they passed by a number of animal pens. Fluffy sheep pranced about in a wooden paddock, nibbling grass, while the cows stared at the arrivals to the Tree City with their deep brown, sad eyes. The pigs ignored Solarae and her guest to pull carrots out of their moorings in the ground. Solarae picked a few dandelions from the grass next to the road and tossed them to the rabbits.

At last they reached the foot of the mighty oaks. Breaking past a thicket of leaves and hedges, they came to a clearing where the foliage had finally been trimmed back to allow a space for a flat, circular sand-pit. There was a space in the centre for a fire to be built, and four tiers of benches surrounded the area. Many Endermen sat in the benches, as if they were ready for an important meeting. Several of them were reading books, knitting, or sketching on pads of paper to pass the time. They didn't look all that different from Sylas's End-born countrymen, but they all had purple eyes and their clothes were less flashy than the kind he was used to wearing and seeing. Their clothes followed a colour scheme of purple, grey, black, and silver just as in the End, but appeared to be made from simpler homespun fabrics, like wool or flax.

These Overworldian Endermen paid little mind to Solarae as she entered the circle and seated herself on a bench in the lowest tier, but they couldn't help but stare at the foreigner Sylas who shyly sat down next to her. He suddenly felt extremely self-conscious and wilted a little in their gaze. Solarae tapped his shoulder.

"It's all right," she said quietly. "You don't have to hide. They're not judging you. They just haven't seen anyone like you in quite a long time."

"Shh," chided an older Enderwoman sitting in the tier above them. She was sewing a patch onto a ripped cloak. "The meeting's about to start."


	8. Deliberation

**Deliberation**

Kalvin's friend sat in the back of the cave, quietly grieving his pearl-mate. The rest of the group decided to give him some space so as not to intrude, but they did occasionally throw him a compassionate glance as they discussed the current matters.

"Well, it's final," Kalvin said boldly. The boldness was unusual to sound in his deep, breathy voice evocative of wind trapped in a cave.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bayata questioned.

"I mean, that was the last time we are going to sit idly by and let the Ender-Dragon commit a murder. It's not enough to call ourselves Rebels. We have to _be_ Rebels."

"I thought we already were resisting. After all, we're resisting enough for our eyes to be purple." She pointed at her bright violet eye.

"True. True. But our current methods aren't working. We live on the outskirts of civilisation and refuse to follow _her_ wicked agenda. That's enough to make our eyes purple, but we need to do more if we are to be effective."

"Such as? Attacking lemmings, d'you suppose?"

"No, no!" Kalvin shook his head vehemently. "Murder to repay murder? Never! I abhor to think of the need ever arising to slay a Follower, but should that dire event come to pass, it shall be solely in defence. I think we need to be more proactive in turning the public opinion. Most of the denizens of the cities are Followers, but lukewarm at best. It should not be terribly difficult to persuade them."

"You make a good point. I agree with you."

"Excuse me," said one of the Rebels in the cave. His name was Klaudius, and he had arrived at the meeting-place mere minutes ago. "I didn't want to infringe upon your conversation, but I have news."

Kalvin nodded. "Do tell me."

"I have been able to connect our Norther branch of the Rebellion to the Eastern and Western divisions. I had to travel in backcountry, through tangled Chorus Fruit groves, to elude the Followers tending the orchards, but I found our countrymen's meeting-places nonetheless and it was well worth it. However, there was simply too much land to cover to reach the Southern division."

Kalvin nodded. "Well, even if you were unable to connect with the Rebels of the southern portion of the island, I commend you for your work. That could not have been easy. Do we have an effective way of communicating with them, then?"

"If a secret path is established through the lesser-travelled areas of backcountry, we can quickly pass messengers back and forth," Klaudius responded.

"A capital idea. We shall commence to do that as soon as we are able. And we should be able soon, I believe."

"Splendid. Now, could you please indulge me with a chorus fruit? I'm famished."

"Absolutely." Kalvin bequeathed one of the bulbous plum-coloured fruits from the supply storage (really, a glorified hole in the wall) to Klaudius.

"Thank you." Klaudius took the soft, fleshy fruit and bit into it, getting an explosion of its sweet juice in his mouth. "Mmm...scrumptious."

"This is supreme. Now that better communication between the four divisions is feasible, the prospect of defeating that terrible tyrant has become more possible. I say that is a cause to celebrate!" She reached for a chorus fruit herself and reclined against the wall to enjoy it.

However, they did not get to relax and have a little party for long. With a loud popping noise and a spray of sparks, a lanky scout appeared in their midst. He was shaking and his eyes were wide and wild, as frazzled and overwhelmed as a cornered animal's would be.

"K-Kalvin!" the boy stuttered. "We've a problem, a very big problem!"

"What is it, man?" Kalvin demanded, tossing aside the rind of the chorus fruit he was eating and springing to stand up. "Calm yourself and tell me!"

"Ender-Dragon...in the city...danger...must come...right now," the scout babbled, waving his arms and hands round in panic.

"Come on, now!" Kalvin was getting annoyed. "Speak coherently. I don't understand you."

"You must come to the End City right now," the boy said, cooling down a little but still speaking rapidly. "What's happening down there is just shy of the apocalypse."


	9. Convention

**Convention**

A thick hush fell on the assembly as a few young Endermen dashed round the courtyard, lighting lanterns to cast a gentle golden glow on the stage and supplement the dying daylight. Once the lanterns were lit, they scurried back to their seats and plopped down, eagerly waiting. In a burst of bright purple light, a stalwart Enderman teleported to the stage, just in front of the fire-pit. He was taller and generally bigger than the others, with a muscle-bound body, pink battle scars from long ago, and a regal glow in his bright violet eyes.

"Good evening, all," he greeted. His deep, resonant voice echoed mightily in the amphitheatre-like space. He clapped his paw-hands together. "As you know, the lesser light to govern the night, the Moon, has completed one cycle and as such, the time has come for a meeting of our people. I'm glad you could take time away from your evening to be here." He turned this way and that, long silver robe swishing as he moved, as he scanned the congregation in the benches.

Sylas gulped and tried to act suddenly very interested in a blade of grass he hastily plucked from the ground, to avoid this obvious authority from noticing him. It didn't work.

" _Alo!_ What is this? Do we have a stranger in our midst?" said the chief Enderman, painfully loudly. Sylas glanced away, pretending to have not heard him-like _that_ was possible.

"You there, in the low tier, next to Solarae Koronah," the chief prodded, pointing his Bible-sized paw-hand directly at Sylas. "I've never seen you before. Who are you?"

Sylas swung his gaze over to his left, in a feeble attempt to ignore the call.

Solarae elbowed him. "It's all right. Just answer his question."

Sylas meekly faced the chief and squeaked, "I'm Sylas Sunvaez."

"As I am certain you are a stranger here, and thus know not who I may be, I must tell you that I am called Kato," the chief (Kato, apparently) explained. "As for you, you said that your surname was Sunvaez. Am I correct in presuming that your origin is from the End, in that respect?"

"Yes, sir." Sylas nodded. He knew better than to lie about his background. "I have come to the Overworld because I was banished from the End. I hope I have not intruded upon your extraordinary civilisation here by my arrival."

"Oh, far from it!" Kato remarked. "We always welcome those of our kind who are without a home. Henceforth, you are no longer a stranger to us, nor even a guest. You may now call yourself truly a member of the People of the Trees."

Sylas blinked. He had not expected to be accepted at all, much less right away. "Thank you, sir. It is an honour to be one of your noble people." He marveled at their trust of himself, a complete stranger. Things were so different here than in the End. These guys were a tight and trusting community. The ones in the End were cold and distant; no-one trusted anyone. This place was radiant with the warmth and light of quiet community.

"Now, we always have at least one thing to talk about at a meeting, and this time is no different. Our intrepid scouts have reported to me that they are making plans for an excursion to the Nether-"

The crowd gasped.

"-yes, the Nether, to domesticate the Ghast. We feel that its flight power will prove quite useful-perhaps for mass transit, or flying loads of cargo to the upper portions of our tree-house villages."

The gentry clapped enthusiastically, showing their approval of the plan. A few whistled and cheered. But then there was an explosive crack of thunder in the distance that made Sylas jump about three feet in the air.

"What was THAT?"

Solarae giggled as he stared wide-eyed at her like a frightened child. "That would be thunder, Sylas. And where there's thunder, there's usually...Oh, no."

"What?" Sylas's goggling eyes got even bigger.

"Everyone, go home immediately!" Kato yelled over the crowd's noise. "It's about to rain!"


	10. Deluge

**Deluge**

Within a minute, a steady rainfall began to pour down from the skies. People squealed and ran or teleported for cover. Fortunately, the thick boughs of the trees were nearby and dense enough to block out the rain.

Sylas's clothes prevented him from suffering the worst of the attack, but his arms were exposed beyond his elbows because of the short sleeves of his tunic-shirt. Each raindrop felt like getting jabbed with a pin.

"Ye-owch!" he cried. Solarae quickly thrust out her hand, grabbed Sylas by the arm, and pulled him to safety under the canopy.

"Ow," he complained, rubbing his arms, as Solarae led the way over to one of the tree-trunks, which was hollowed out with a door. Within the trunks there was presumably a way to get up to the tree-houses. "What in the wide End was that all about? The sky just randomly starts dumping water on the earth?"

Solarae rubbed her cheek, abash. "I forgot to tell you about rain."

"Clearly! Can we please go inside?"

"Well, of course." They had reached the door, a mighty ten-foot-tall portal of stained wood, by now. It was unlocked and Solarae pushed it open, letting a golden glow from lanterns within the staircase-room spill out onto the dark grass.

Sylas would have offered Solarae to enter before he did-ladies first, after all-but he got distracted by a most curious animal guarding the door.

" _Alo!_ " he exclaimed, surprised. "What's that?"

It was some sort of small, quadrupedal animal. Its lean body was covered in mottled green fur, and had a blot of dark green fur about its cat-like black nose and thin mouth, that resembled a gaping frown. Its front legs were thin and delicate-looking, but its back legs were muscular and so long they folded back on themselves like a rabbit's, ready for jumping and running and kicking. Curved black claws stuck out of the three toes on each paw. The animal regarded Sylas and Solarae with its large, dark green, soulful eyes.

"Sylas, I'd like you to meet the Creeper," Solarae said, laying a hand on the creature's furry head. "Ordinarily these are what you'd call a 'monster,' but we've tamed these marvellous creatures to guard our houses. The mere sight of them is enough to deter most intruders."

As if on cue, the creeper smiled, revealing a mouthful of teeth. The most eminent were its huge, razor-edged incisors, but a rather fearsome set of canine teeth stood out as well. Sylas recoiled, startled.

"I believe it."

"And if sight does not work, they have a most unusual mode of defence: they can explode and then regenerate themselves...like some sort of bizarre explosive phoenix," Solarae started to explain. "But I'm sure you don't want to hear an entire biology lesson from me. Come on. No good to standing out in the cold and rain. Let's go inside. I'm almost certain we have a vacant house on this tree."

Inside the trunk, it was dry, warm, and smelled of musty wood-like an old library. They teleported up the creaky stairs, which had been carved out of the sapwood. The dead heartwood of the tree had been dug out entirely to make ample room. The stairs spiralled up the height of the trunk, until they came to a set of double doors at the top. Solarae pushed them open and stepped out onto a balcony, with Sylas following shortly after.

The balcony was a wooden walkway running round the girth of the tree, and it reached out to overlap some extremely thick branches that held the tree-houses. Otherwise, a rope-and-plank bridge closed the gap between the houses and the main entrance. The thick shadows underneath the bulk of the tree's leafy canopy were dispelled by lanterns chained to small branches and fireflies blinking with a greenish-yellow glow.

Solarae pointed to a small house not far below them, that was connected to the trunk with a rope-and-plank bridge. A homely sign declaring the residence "vacant" hung by the door.

"How about that one?"


	11. Annihilation

**Annihilation**

 _Part I finale!_

Kalvin, Bayata, and about ten other Rebels teleported as fast as they could to the End city. They stopped in an manicured orchard of Chorus trees, panting and heaving from the exertion of teleporting so far and so quickly. Though they knew full well that the Followers, with their twisted thinking, would be unable to know that they were purple-eyed (and thus Rebels), they remained cautious nonetheless. After all, they were deep in enemy territory here, and their behaviour could give them away just as easily as their appearance.

The dozen Enderpeople roughly pushed past rows of ramrod straight, skeletal Chorus trees, making a few overripe fruits dislodge from the branches and fall to the ground where they burst into sticky blobs of juice and fruit-flesh on the End-stone. Disgusted, most of the Rebels took extra care not to step in the juicy explosions.

When they cleared the orchard and came into the city, they charged out onto the street, prepared to see all hell broken loose. Instead, this part of the city was strangely deserted. Not a soul was found there. This, unsurprisingly, enraged Kalvin.

"You idiot!" he snapped at the scout from before. "You'd better have a blasted good reason for bringing us out here. If I find out you dragged us into the heat of enemy territory for nothing…"

The scout wilted as Kalvin berated him, but still found the courage to speak. "If you will, sir, we have to go deeper than this. After all, I'm sure you notice how we are the only Endermen-"

"And Enderwomen!" Bayata added irritably.

"-Enderpeople, that is, round this part of the city. Am I correct?"

Kalvin backed down. "I apologise for my rashness. But why won't you tell me what this terrible thing happening in the city's heart is?"

"It is too abhorrent to speak of presently. It is best you see it," the scout explained.

Kalvin and the others mustered the strength for another bout of teleportation, and travelled deep into the heart of the city. Here, the purpur and End-brick towers were packed in tightly with obsidian towers. Made of the same glassy dark rock was the imposing castle wherein Sylas had been condemned, with the disabled portal that had ejected him from his homeland standing before the palace, like a cruel mockery of a lovely decorative fountain. The scout pointed to the city square, a wide plaza of purpur, at the centre of which stood the portal and stretched to touch some of the larger towers about the plaza.

The others followed his gaze, and as they did, their jaws unhinged in shock and horror at the scene unfolding before them.

Civilians ran about the city square screaming, while teams of Followers chased them round with sharp obsidian spears. They pushed swarms of people back and shouted at them in a vain attempt to keep them under control and prevent a riot.

The hysterical citizens were howling, screaming, and pointing at the castle. The Ender-dragon flew in great loops and arcs across the sky, roaring in rage. Every time she pumped her wings as she flew, the sound of the great sheets of leathery skin cutting through the air resounded acridly in the Rebels' ears. With an irate growl, she circled round the plaza and settled in front of the castle.

Kalvin's stomach twisted up in a knot as the Dragon seated herself among the mangled, bleeding bodies of countless Endermen, slain by her jaws and talons. This was the worst massacre yet.

The hideous monster shook her long, flexible neck and then her entire torso down to her tail, ruffling the rows and rows of ebony scales and silver ridges cascading down her reptilian body. She snorted a spurt of dark grey smoke from her nostrils and winked wickedly at the petrified Endermen citizens with her leering pinkish-red eyes.

"And now that the royal Endermen are dead, I shall rule alone," the old Dragon boasted. "You are all my helpless underlings, and no-one will challenge my dominion over you."

To be continued…


	12. Beginnings

**Beginnings**

 _Ten years later_

"Come, Dominik!" Sylas scolded. "You're going to be late!"

"I don't have my shoes on," his five-year-old son complained, sitting on the floor of his room with his little gentlemanly boots standing attentively next to him and not on his paw-feet. "I don't know how to tie 'em."

"I thought I showed you how to tie them yesterday."

"I forgot."

"All right, fine. But pay attention this time!" Sylas knelt by Dominik's feet and slipped the left boot on. "I'm going to lace it now. Watch me." He threaded the stringy lace through the eyelets on the boot and wove it back and forth up its length. He finished it off with a neat bow at the top, then did the same for Dominik's right boot.

"There," Sylas said, standing up. "All done."

"Yay! Thanks, Papa!"

"You're welcome," Sylas said, taking his son by the hand and leading him down the stairs to the parlour. "Now let's go. You don't want to be late on your first day of school."

Solarae was waiting for them in the small parlour of their modest tree-house. She stood by the door, holding a small homemade knapsack in her hands. She nodded approvingly to Sylas. Their one-year-old daughter, Ayva, clung to her shoulder.

"First day of school!" she chirped, and helped Dominik shrug on his backpack. "Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh," said Dominik. "And nervous. Mama, do I have to go?"

"Yes, honey." She ruffled the fuzzy fur on the top of his head. "But don't worry. You'll learn all kinds of important things, meet new friends...Won't that be fun?"

"Uh-huh," Dominik repeated, unconvinced, as Sylas took his hand again and led him out the door and onto the porch. Beyond it was a rope ladder leading back to the main trunk of the tree-house, where the school and most of the other public buildings were located.

"Good-bye, honey!" Solarae said to her son before he left. "Have fun, and stay safe. I love you."

"Love you too, Ma," Dominik said, trotting onto the bridge.

"And I'll be going out to the fields after I drop off Dominik at school. I have patrol duty today," Sylas informed Solarae. "I'll be back round sundown, as always."

"Right."

"Good-bye for now, love." Sylas lifted his hand-paw and Solarae did the same. They locked hands, letting the bracelets on their wrists clink together musically. The silver bands were exact copies of each other, embossed with a graceful vine pattern. They were the sign of a promise; both of the Enderpeople had worn them ever since Solarae had agreed to become Solarae Sunvaez almost a decade ago.

"Good-bye." Solarae lifted her glittering gaze to meet Sylas's and smiled.

As Sylas escorted his son to school, he glanced round at the busy network of bridges and tree-houses crisscrossing the mighty oaks, filled with milling, mingling Enderpeople. It was nowhere near a new sight, but today the idea of new beginnings for his son hearkened Sylas's memory back to his own new beginning in this dimension. If someone looked at him now, comfortably settled into a tribe of Overworldian Endermen with his pearl-mate, son, and daughter, they would never have been able to guess that Sylas Sunvaez really had come from the End. His days as a prince of that cold, dark world were long gone. Irrelevant, really. And that was just the way this Enderman wanted it to stay.

But it wouldn't stay that way for long.

 **A/N 3/27/16: Happy Easter!**


	13. Gambit

**Triskaidekaphobia!**

 **Gambit**

Bayata leaned over and peered out past the chorus fruit tree, to the wide plain of End-stone separating herself and the tall, gloomy obsidian pillar. She slid her bright gaze from one side to the other, looking for signs of trouble.

"No-one coming this way," she mused, "...nor that way. Okay." She stood up straight and shook her arms to muster a little more courage before boldly shooting out from behind the tree and running as fast as her lanky legs could carry her. Her skirt swished wildly as she sprinted along, and her padded feet soundlessly pounded the bumpy, rocky ground. She would have liked very much to teleport and be at her target immediately, but the Ender-Dragon's overuse of Ender Crystal energy had caused a saturation of negative magic that interrupted the signals sent out by teleportation.

Bayata squealed to a halt once she had passed the tower and could safely hide behind it. She ducked into a hollow in the glassy dark rock to catch her breath. Once her lungs had calmed down, she stepped back and craned her neck backward to gaze up the full height of the pillar. It seemed to stretch up endlessly, until it finally scratched the bruised purple sky.

The Rebel Enderwoman narrowed her eyes in determination and took a silver-grey rope out of her satchel. Attached to its end was a gleaming, three-pronged hook. She gripped the rope near the hook and swung it in widening circles above her head. It whizzed as it spun round and round, gaining speed until it was a shiny blur in the air. Finally, Bayata released it, and the hook soared high above her, flying towards the tower. With a crunching sound, the sharp metal prongs embedded themselves in the obsidian. Bayata tugged on the rope a few times to check that it was anchored securely, then exhaled a slow breath before collecting even more courage than before.

Pulling down on the rope to make it taut, she wedged her clawed toes into some cracks in the rock. Little by little, she climbed up the pillar in this manner, but don't think for a moment that she felt brave while doing it. No, she was truly terrified!

"Oh, dear heavens," she muttered, hoisting her foot into the next foothold. "If I slip…No, can't think about that...I must be brave...Please don't let me fall, please don't let me fall…"

Finally, she reached the zenith of the obsidian tower. Grunting with effort, she reached over the edge and hauled her torso onto the top face, kicking her legs and crawling until all of her was now lying atop the tower. She quickly sprung to her feet.

And just in time, because a Follower, and quite a young one at that, was waiting for her. He had gross slime-green eyes and a shoddy grey tunic, and carried an obsidian spear.

"H-hey, you!" he squeaked unconvincingly, brandishing his spear. "Go away! You're not allowed up here."

This guy was obviously a rookie and very unsure of himself. While he stood there, pointing his weapon, Bayata calmly closed her fist round the wobbling shaft of the spear behind its point and yanked, pulling it cleanly out of his grip. She deftly tossed it off the edge of the tower. It plummeted a hundred feet and shattered upon impact with the ground.

"No weapons, all right? Let's try to be civil," she suggested. "Do you ever get bored up here?"

The overwhelmed boy paused, caught off guard by her question. "Sometimes, yeah."

"Do you like guarding this Ender Crystal?" she continued.

"Not really, no. And it's scary when the Dragon swoops by to collect power from it."

"I'd bet it would be," she said calmly. "Tell me, how would you feel if this Ender Crystal somehow disappeared."

The boy shrugged. "Well, it wouldn't really bother me, but I guess the others would be upset."

Bayata tried to keep a straight face, try as the small smile might to appear on her lips. His sickly green eyes were shifting to grey as they spoke, even starting to show hints of lilac. "Are you sure?"

"Ma'am, I don't know. I'm very new."

"Do you like doing this?"

"No. Not at all, really. My superiors are very unkind. Not just to me, but to other citizens and stuff. It really bothers me."

Bayata's voice dropped to a low whisper. "Will you help me with something, boy?"

"Like what?"

"The crystal. My people would like it very much. If we can get ahold of it, we can stop the ones who are making the End such a miserable place. So, can you help us? Please?"

"If I help you, will you let me come along to where your people are? I want out of here."

"Absolutely."

The boy paused and blinked a few times. With each blink, his eyes shifted in colour, until at last they were of a pleasant purple hue.

"It's yours, ma'am."


	14. Siege

**Siege**

Crickets chirped steadily all round the patrol guards. The late summer wind howled its lonely song in the distance. Above them, the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds in the deep blue sky. A waning crescent moon hung there as well, a thin white slice in the huge dark expanse.

"I'm bored," Sylas's companion complained, fingers tapping against the hilt of his sword, as if he was eager to draw it and fight. Which he probably was.

Sylas shrugged, sending a ripple of fabric undulating down the length of his black wool cloak. At first he hadn't been sure if he should have brought it along, but once he had felt the cool clear air of the September evening on his fur, he was glad to have it. The days were warm, but the nights were chilly.

"Nothing ever happens round here," his fellow patrol guard continued.

"I'm not convinced that is a bad thing," Sylas replied. He turned and glanced over his shoulder at the defensive stone wall circumscribing the gardens and farm plots that in turn surrounded the trees. It had been an extensive project that took a few years to complete and required the handiwork of many citizens, but it was well worth it. In recent months, zombie warlords had been poking about the area with their gangs of underlings, but the stone wall and the well-trained warriors posted there deterred them...at least for now.

Tonight, groups of archers deployed themselves strategically round the wall. They carried extra-long bows of smooth, dark ebony wood, strung tautly for action. Leather quivers filled with arrows were strapped to their backs, and they scanned the plain and forest beyond for signs of trouble with their keen eyes. The patrol guards would be the first to spot an intruder, but the archers would be the first to deal with it.

A dark shape flitted across a knoll. Sylas's eyebrows perked and he nudged his companion's arm.

"Psst," he whispered harshly. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

Another mystery shape jumped across the hill.

" _That!_ " he hissed. "Do you think it's a threat?"

"I don't know. Let's get a little closer and look."

"No, don't do that. We might run right into an ambush. Just stay where we are and be ready."

The fellow patrol guard laid a hand on the hilt of his sword and narrowed his eyes, watching the hill carefully. Another one of the whatever-they-were crawled up to the peak of the knoll and stayed there for a second. In that second, they could discern the hazy outline of poorly assembled leather armour and a rough-hewn machete strapped to the short bipedal figure's back. Its helmet had a pair of decorative wings on the side, an obvious sign of theft. Zombies were too dumb to make anything that pretty. Gradually, a few more silhouettes appeared against the starlit sky.

"The zombies are here!" Sylas exclaimed softly. "Sound the alarm!"

"Uh, right!" The other patrol guard fumbled with his belt until he unhooked a curved, hollow ram's horn and lifted it to his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath, then blew as loudly as he could before swinging it back onto his belt. Then, in perfect synchronisation with Sylas, he drew his sword.

The bellowing shofar tone rolled over the open plain and alerted the archers to the danger. The zombies on the horizon gave a start, then bounded down the hill, irritated that the advantage of surprise had been wrested from them.

Almost immediately, arrows sliced across the sky overhead, picking off about nine zombies. The arrows landed with impeccable accuracy, burying themselves in eyes and throats and chests. Fifteen or so zombies remained, and Sylas wondered which one of them was their warlord. In the wicked red light from the zombies' torches, Sylas could make out their frightening forms. Green skin, exposed muscle and bone, broken teeth, rotten rags...they were thoroughly disgusting! He shuddered and brandished his sword, the smooth steel blade flashing in the moonlight.

Two zombies ran at him, growling and gurgling. Sylas's heart thudded against his rib-cage as the green monsters, with galloping strides, closed the distance between themselves and he. But he couldn't afford to freak out now. Once they were less than a stone's throw away, he screeched his battle cry and parried one zombie's attack, swatting the monster's short hatchet out of its grip. Hopping back a step, he drove his sword into the zombie's chest. He yanked it back out immediately, throwing a spray of the zombie's dark blood into the air and splashing upon the ground.

"Hraaargh!" he snarled, baring his long fangs. With a sweeping slice, he relieved the second zombie of its head before it even had time to load an arrow onto its primitive bow. The corpses, dead again, fell with dull thuds to the ground. Sylas kicked them aside and fought off another zombie.

Arrows whizzed overhead and swords clanged all round him. Occasionally there was the hissing of flame as a torch was extinguished. Wielding his sword like an avenging angel, Sylas whipped this way and that to hack and lunge with the weapon, felling several zombies. Every now and then he growled in pain as he felt a zombie's sharp claw rake across his arm or back, but he didn't fall, and he eliminated his enemies one by one.

At last, the sounds of battle died away. The lull lasted for a few seconds before scouts and patrol guards started calling to each other in the dark. Their voices mixed together as a soft murmur of sound, comforting after the din of a skirmish.

"Are they all gone?"

"I think so."

"Is everyone all right?"

"Aye, I believe."

"I have a little cut on my hand…"

"Fear not; I have spider silk. Come over here and I'll mend it…"

"No more injuries? No casualties?"

"Nay, sir."

"Good. Clean your swords, men."

"Ugh! Zombie blood."

"It smells atrocious…"

Sylas wiped his own sword on the ground, smearing the dark viscous blood of the slain zombies on the grass. He rubbed the corner of his cloak along the blade for good measure. He slid his sword back into its sheath until the hilt hit the rim of the scabbard and clicked securely into place. He glanced up and nodded at his companions.

"Excellent work, men," said the captain of the patrol guards, his eyes glowing brightly in the shades of night. "Hopefully tonight's battle will make the zombie warlords think twice before attempting an attack on our city in times to come. The third watch will be taking post soon. Go home, then, and rest. You've earned it."


	15. Assembly

**Assembly**

"Ah!" The scout Rebel suddenly went into defensive posture, showing off his claws. "Intruder-oh, wait."

Bayata looked startled, nearly dropping the Ender Crystal she was carrying, and the boy standing next to her reached up for the sky in surrender.

"Not intruders," the scout said, more to himself than Bayata and her friend. "Sorry. We're a little jumpy."

"I can imagine. Oof!" Bayata set the Ender crystal down on the ground. It was thoroughly unpleasant to carry-hot to the touch and very heavy, and the glass cubes twisted restlessly round the pink rune cube, making it difficult to grip securely. It impacted with a hard thud.

"Oh, good, that's the last crystal we need." The scout pointed at the crystal, but then he noticed the young Enderman. " _Alo_. Who's that?"

"He wanted to come with," Bayata replied. "Would you mind carrying the crystal over to the portal site?" She gave him a hopeful smile.

He looked bemused and shook his head. "No, ma'am, I cannot do that. I have to stand guard. Mustn't let the lemmings see what we're up to."

Bayata groaned dramatically, but she hoisted the Ender Crystal onto her shoulder again. The boy sensed that she was struggling and hooked his hands under the far edge, taking most of the weight off of her shoulders.

"Ah. Thanks," Bayata said, and nodded at the hill of End-stone sloping down into a valley, where the other Rebels were putting the new portal together. Carrying the giant crystal downhill, they met with the motley crew. The beginning of peculiar portal lay in the bowl of land, a shallow dish of obsidian and smaller than the one the Followers had. The Rebels were examining the crystals and looking at diagrams drawn on crinkled old sheets of parchment, as if they weren't exactly sure what they were doing.

"Oh, boys? Look what we've got!" Bayata cooed to the other Endermen, who glanced up from their work.

"Aw, yeah!" the cheered (quietly) upon seeing the glowing crystal-a pink cube covered in mystic runes and encased in two larger cubes of glass, endlessly spinning round and round. "That's the last one we need."

"How many did we need in all?" asked the boy, as he and Bayata set the heavy object down by the partially constructed portal. It fell with a loud _thump_ to the End-stone.

"Ten," responded one of the portal geeks, eagerly explaining the workings of an exit portal. "Ordinarily you only need the power of a Dragon Egg to keep the portal activated, but we obviously don't have access to one. That, and we couldn't get ahold of bedrock, so we had to use obsidian instead. It's useable, but not as good as bedrock."

"Okay. I'm following."

"So instead, we needed Ender crystals infused with juice from chorus fruits."

"Why chorus fruits?"

"If we use pure Ender crystals, we'll summon another Ender-Dragon from the pits of hell."

"Oh...Yeah, that would be bad."

"We actually only need seven crystals to leave the End. But in order to return without murdering anyone for pearls, we'll use the leftovers to power an Overworld portal. Those portals don't need as much oomph because there isn't all this bad magic energy floating round in their atmosphere."

"Makes sense."

While they were talking, another portal geek had done his scientific mastery and infused the last Ender Crystal with juice. Now the cube had gone from a pink to a deep magenta, pulsating with a white glow from within that shone through the runes. The glass had turned dark grey and cracked in places. The cubes turned and spun a little faster, too.

"Heave-ho!" Two strong Endermen lifted the crystal, carried it over to the rim of the exit portal, and prepared to set in with the others. Six other crystals had been magically embedded into the shiny purple rock. Small tendrils of electricity crackled occasionally, jumping from one crystal to the next.

They shoved the last crystal into a niche in the rock, carved into the perfect shape to hold it, and it stuck. The space within the portal flashed, shot dazzling white sparks into the air, and ignited a portal. The viscous blackish-blue goop, speckled with stars and comets, swirled and rippled restlessly. Kalvin stepped in front of it and clapped his paw-hands to get everyone's attention.

"Okay, all of you," said he. "Gather round."

The group of Rebels and portal geeks closed in round him.

"We're on a mission to find our old friend Sylas and bring him back here."

"But how do we know if he's even alive? And what's the point, anyway? He's just one Enderman," a younger Rebel complained.

" _Just one Enderman!_ " Kalvin remarked scornfully. "No, Sylas is much more than that. He has power vested in him that not even he himself knows about."

A subdued gasp wove about the group.

"How do you know?" asked the same doubty Rebel.

"When you're an End prince's head servant, you get to know these kinds of things," Kalvin said matter-of-factly. "As his mentor, I was entrusted with the boy's deep secret since his childhood."

"What secret?" Bayata demanded. Then she caught herself. "...I mean, unless we're not supposed to know."

"This is an emergency," Kalvin replied. "I'm within my rights."

"Get on with it already!" snapped an impatient portal geek.

Kalvin gave him a dirty look but proceeded, regardless. "Our friend Sylas...is a _geheimsamen_ Enderman."

The others stared at Kalvin as if he'd just sprouted a second head.

"...Okay, it looks like y'all are a little rusty in your Old Ender. _Geheimsamen_ means 'energy magic.' What that means is that Sylas was born with a little more than just royal blood running through his veins...he also has latent but powerful magic hidden within his being."

"So does that mean he can just swoop down and put the smackdown on the Ender-Dragon? Poof?" Klaudius prodded. The spy Rebel was what we'd call 'over the hill' by now, with a stooped back and dull eyes, and had gotten rather cynical over the years. Living under the Ender-Dragon's iron claw does that to a person.

"Well, not quite," admitted Kalvin. "I wish it was that simple, but the weird thing is, _geheimsamen_ magic only shows up once in someone's lifetime."

"Just once?" Klaudius scratched the top of his head, trying to comprehend that. "And never again after that?"

"True. It reveals itself in the climax of someone's life-their time of greatest need or responsibility."

"So what makes you think that now will be that time?" the doubty one inquired.

"I can't imagine a time of more need and responsibility than fighting the Ender-Dragon herself," said Kalvin, a faraway look in his eyes.

"We're going to the Overworld and finding Sylas, then?" asked Bayata. "That's the plan?"

Kalvin nodded. "Who is willing to come with me?"

There was a pause, and then a fine show of hands.

A rare smile crossed Kalvin's mouth. "Good. We leave immediately."


	16. Arrival

**Arrival**

The sun was reluctantly climbing above the distant hills, painting a thin band of fiery gold along the horizon and spilling daylight onto the world. Sylas sat on an old stump near the garden walls and watched it rise, leaning against the solid stone.

"What a battle!" he mumbled, as if he was talking to the sun. "I thought sunrise would never come." Hopping off of the stump, he circled over to the front of the garden wall, where he was greeted by a set of wooden gates, carved with ivy and dragonflies. They were unlocked now that it was daytime, and creaked open with a mere push. Sylas trotted through the gardens, too busy pondering last night's battle to consider simply teleporting back to the home trees.

The soft scent of flowers wafted in the air, fresh in the early autumn breeze. The well-worn dirt path was strewn with fallen leaves and petals, stamped into the ground by countless feet passing over. From the animal pens, the steady oink of pigs mixed with the gentle lowing of cows and the thumping sound of their heavy hooves pounding the earth.

He didn't have to go far before he found Solarae. She was at the apple orchard, trading with the orchard manager for his produce. She carried Ayva on her shoulder. Dominik was already at school.

Ayva spotted her father approaching and gurgled happily. "Ga da-da ba ga!"

"Good morning, love."

"Good morning. I heard we were attacked last night?" Solarae inquired as she turned to Sylas and tried to keep the bag of freshly picked apples away from Ayva's eager hands.

"Mm-hmm." Sylas sighed. "The zombie warlord and his goons."

Solarae groaned, exasperated. "Again?"

"Indeed. The captain told us we could go home, but no. Just when we were about to leave, another wave sent by that loon rushed in." He ruffled the fuzz atop Ayva's head and smiled slightly. After a night of battling frightful zombies, sweet little Ayva was a welcome sight.

"Which one? Gumbo?"

"That's what we think. We didn't see him. Typical Gumbo, too slime-spined to fight us himself. He always sends his cronies instead."

"And he just won't give up, will he?"

"Not likely. And the dumb thing is, we don't even have anything he really wants to plunder. I mean, gold? Diamonds? Please! We hardly mine for iron, much less gold and diamonds. It's stupid, Solarae. Just plain stupid!"

Solarae frowned, disturbed to see her normally calm pearl-mate so upset. "Well, it's over now. I'm sure Gumbo will leave us alone for a while so he can replace all the followers he lost. Maybe this will even be the time it finally clicks in his rotten brain that he can't bring us down."

Sylas chuckled. "That's what I'm hoping."

* * *

"Ughh…" Kalvin groaned. "Where am I? What happened?"

He gazed through his blurred, clouded vision. The air round him felt oddly warm and flowing, very much unlike the cold still atmosphere of the End.

The End…

"Oh!" he exclaimed, his mind suddenly registering what had happened. "Guys! We made it!"

A few feet away, a dozy Bayata muttered, "Ah-wha? Made it where?"

"The Overworld." Kalvin jumped to his feet. "We're here! Gee, I've only been here a minute and I already love it!"

"Someone's excited," Bayata grumbled, still sort of asleep. She staggered over to him. But then she snapped awake and scanned their surroundings, eyes wide with wonder. "Mercy me!"

They stood on a placid field of grass, crinkly and dry from the sun's warmth. It still was a pleasant shade of green, despite the dryness. Colourful wildflowers poked up curiously between the shocks of tall grass-bold red poppies, happy white daisies, dandelions as yellow as the glowing sun hanging overhead…

Bayata bent down and plucked one of the dandelions, rolling it round in her hand-paw. "Astounding."

"If I had known this was what the Overworld was like, I would have gotten myself banished _on purpose!_ " Kalvin glanced behind him, past the dozen or so Rebels who had come with him, and to the shaded forest at the edge of the prairie. It was a cluster of stately trees with fluffy emerald boughs, far fairer than the gaunt, skeletal chorus fruit trees of the End. Swinging his gaze back to facing forward, he stared out to where the verdant hills of the prairie rolled out to meet with the creamy piles of sand on the beach. Beyond that was the ocean, a thin sapphire band running along the horizon.

Now that the initial awe had worn off, it was time for him to think seriously about finding Sylas. "All right, men and women."

The Rebels stopped chattering about the wonders of the Overworld and turned their attention to Kalvin.

"It looks like it's just plains and beach ahead of us, which I don't think is the ideal place for Mr. Sunvaez to be hiding. Which means, we're going to have to look-what is that, south?-in the forest over there and beyond." Kalvin nodded at the misty outline of mountains past the forest and whatever patch of land lay beyond it.

"I just wanted to say something," Bayata announced, teleporting in front of Kalvin and clapping her paw-hands to collect the group's focus. "I know this is a brand new world we're exploring. Of course it's going to be fun. But we have to stay safe, too. We have no idea what kind of creatures to expect here. Be on guard at all times."

 **A/n: Just wanted to say "thank you" to Watcher321, Minecraftausllygirl, Redf Feather, RebelWingsProductions, ShandyCandy, AquaJinx, AghiTron Jeremiah462, and MetaCrisisDR for favoriting, following, and reviewing this story! You guys are awesome!**


	17. Travail

**Travail**

Inside the reaches of the forest, the air was cool and clear, like going into the basement on a stuffy summer day. The stiff stalwart trunks of oaks and maples stretched out for what seemed like forever all round Kalvin and his friends, a natural wooden maze. The sun peeked in and out of holes in the forest canopy as they walked along. Their feet crunched old acorns and dry leaves, testimonies from last autumn, into the earth.

"I like this better than the chorus forests," one Rebel piped up.

"Agreed," the rest of them responded.

"I wonder what kind of animals live in here," Bayata thought aloud. "I've heard there were birds and mice and stuff, and something called a deer."

"A deer?" asked someone.

"Yeah. You all know what a horse is, right? So a deer is kind of like that. It's like a little horse with tree branches growing out of its head."

"Preposterous!" Klaudius snapped.

A shrubbery on their left rustled. Everyone froze in place and stared at it. It rustled, stirred some more, went quiet for a few seconds, and then finally a small hairy animal sprung out of its hiding-place within.

"Ahhh!"

"Ahhh!"

"AHHHH!"

The furry animal looked at them like they'd gone crazy. It was a mousy brown in colour, with strong back legs and twiggy forelegs. It regarded them curiously with its bulbous black eyes and twitched its large, long ears.

"Oh. Wait." Kalvin quickly calmed down. "It's just a rabbit."

"Well, that dumb rah-beet startled me," Klaudius defended, crossing his arms. "How were we 'sposed to know it was going to jump out of the bushes like that?"

The rabbit bounded away into the depths of the woods, hoping it would never encounter those weird tall, panicky creatures again. Kalvin watched it escape, then faced the group, frowning.

"What's the matter?" asked Bayata.

"We freaked out because we got jumped...by a _rabbit._ If this is our reaction to such an innocuous critter as a _rabbit_ , what are we going to do when we meet the less harmless beasts out there?"

* * *

"Oh, finally. I thought we'd never get over these mountains." Kalvin teleported atop a boulder near the base of the mountain and hopped off to a ledge below it. Not terribly far down the slope was a sea of tall prairie grass waving in the wind, with a sparse scrub-forest behind it. Little water gullies dappled the field.

There was a thudding sound as Bayata landed on the boulder, then slipped down to meet him on the ledge. Hands on her hips, she took a minute to appreciate the scenery before resuming the mountain-climbing. "Beautiful, isn't it? Are you sure we have to go back to the End once we're done?"

"Yeah, we do," Kalvin said grudgingly. "The mission is to find Sylas and bring him home so he can stop the Ender-Dragon and we can get back to our lives. Then maybe we can come back."

"So how do you think the lemmings will react when their precious Dragon dies?" Bayata perked an eyebrow and smirked.

Kalvin chuckled, entertaining a fantasy of furious Followers holding no power once the Dragon was dead. "Oh, they'll be _so_ mad. It'll be fantastic." He leapt down to another rock below, closing up the distance between he and the ground. Stepping off, he pressed his foot onto the soft, spongy grass. The rest of the group followed suit.

"Ready, everyone?" he asked, glancing up. "We'll just teleport over to that scrub-forest and-OH MY GOSH!"

Kalvin (and everyone else) stood gaping at the sight. Rising up from the short stubby trees of the Scrub were massive oaks with trunks as thick as obsidian towers. Their enormous canopy blocked the evening sun, casting a huge shadow. In the dying daylight, green and yellow light from an unknown source emanated from within the leafy boughs. Kalvin could have sworn he spotted something like houses made of logs hiding in the expansive branches.

Behind him, words like "amazing," "unbelievable," "incredible," and such-like wove round the group.

"Well, I know where we're going to look next," he commented. "Come on. We need to get there before dark."

They half-ran, half-teleported through the sparse scrub-forest, but the sun was quicker than them. Soon, they were stuck in a clearing as the inky blackness of night was draped over the land. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted in the distance.

"Well, this isn't ideal. Should we keep going?" suggested Klaudius.

"Yes, Klaudius, I think we should keep going. After all, I'm pretty sure we don't want to get killed by night beasties," Kalvin responded sourly.

The group of Rebels struggled to continue traversing the scrub-forest. Forest travel by day can be a bother enough. But running through the woods at night, well, that's just about intolerable. They fled like scared sheep through the overgrown thickets, scratching their arms and legs on branches and banging their shins on rocks. The deep blue light of the moon was hardly enough to reach through the tangle of foliage, leaving them nearly blind in the dark as well. Endermen have good low-light vision, but it's not _that_ good!

At last the forest broke away into a clearing at the foot of the giant trees. Kalvin stumbled onto the grass and felt round in the air, pushing away imaginary branches. "Oh. Phew. No more running the gauntlet." He let his arms drop to his sides and sighed with relief. "All right, everyone, I think we're okay now. See, that wasn't so bad. The beasties didn't get us."

Bayata staggered to his side and spat a leaflet-covered twig out of her mouth. "It was that bad! What kind of 'beasties' were we supposedly going to run into, anyway?"

Kalvin shrugged, but it was hard to see that in the dark. "I don't know. I've just heard that monsters come out at night in the Overworld."

"You and those stupid old stories," the Enderwoman muttered, and stormed off towards the gate in the stone wall surrounding the trees.

"Hey, wait up!" Kalvin bounded after her.

"HALT!" a loud, sharp voice commanded. A big form of some biped stepped in front of them. Both of the Rebels froze in their tracks.

A tough-looking Endermen with a broad chest and muscle-bound arms glared at them, purple eyes narrowed in suspicion. He wore a plain grey robe looking to be woven from wool and held a long wooden pole with an axe-head carved from a rock in his left paw-hand. He appraised the strangers with that suspicious gaze, taking in Kalvin's silver suit and Bayata's sparkly purple dress with a faint trace of derision.

"You're strangers," he observed at last, breaking the tense silence.

"No, sir," Kalvin lied. "We were...stuck out late in the orchard. The other fruit pickers left without us."

The edge of the guard's lip curled up in a slight snarl, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Liars. I can tell just by your appearance that you're not from here. No-one within these walls dresses like that. And all of the gardens are _inside_ the walls. Why don't you tell me where you're really from?"

 _Blast it,_ Kalvin thought to himself. _He saw right through that. I have no other lies. Best to tell him the truth, I suppose._

As it turns out, he didn't have to. Bayata piped up instead. "Okay, sir, I will admit it. My friend Kalvin and I-my name's Bayata-are not from this...tree-house village. We are from the End. We're looking for someone named Sylas Sunvaez. Have you seen him, by any chance?"

"From the End," he echoed. "Kato may find you to be fascinating, but I have my reasons to despise you."

Kalvin and Bayata were so stunned by that remark to even notice their friends catching up to them.

Naturally, the appearance of ten more End-born Endermen didn't exactly help their case with the guard.

"And you brought _twelve_ of yourselves?" he rumbled, a dangerous strain to his voice.

Kalvin gulped, but found the courage to ask, "May we ask what you find so undesirable about End-born Endermen?"

The guard looked less angry and more annoyed instead. "There's a long story behind it. I don't care to tell that story presently. Perhaps Kato should explain it fully to you."

Kalvin had no idea who this Kato character was, but he assumed it was someone very important. The leader of these Farlanders*, most likely.

"May we speak to Kato, then?" he asked.

There was another tense pause as the guard considered it. Then, he said, "Very well. I do suppose you should have a chance to explain yourselves. But only Kalvin and Bayata. The rest stay out here."

 **A/N: *In** _ **Cry of the End**_ **, "Farlander" is the term for an Enderman living in the Overworld. It has a much nicer ring to it than "Overworldian Enderman," eh?**


	18. Excitement

**Excitement**

Sylas was usually an agreeable Enderman, but that didn't apply when someone was trying to break his door down at 3:00 AM.

"Rrrrarrgh...what is it? What's the matter?" he growled (but not too loudly), throwing the door open. Hoping the annoying door-pounder would just give up and go away hadn't worked. "This had better be pretty blasted important!"

"An important announcement, yes," a sleepy-eyed page standing the threshold explained. "Kato has called an emergency meeting. Well, not a meeting in the sense of a public gathering. He specifically requested your presence."

" _Now?_ It's 3:00 AM!" Sylas fumed.

"He said it was an emergency," the page defended.

"This cannot wait till morning?"

"Nope."

"Arrgh!"

"If it makes you feel any better, only you have to attend. The rest of your family can stay home."

Sylas breathed a big sigh, relieved. "Well, that's good. Ayva gets dreadfully fussy when she's woken early."

"So, um, we'd best be going, then."

"Yes, yes, in a moment!" Sylas said crossly. He disappeared inside the dark house briefly, then returned wearing his cloak. "It's too cold out tonight to be travelling without a cloak, silly." With a swish of the supple black wool, he stepped out onto the porch and motioned for the page to lead the way.

* * *

The page directed Sylas into a large round room and left promptly, shutting the door softly behind him. Kato's office was inside the upper trunk of one of the great trees, hollowed out from the heartwood. Candles burned in their brass holders on the walls, dripping wax into small reservoir dishes at the bases. They smelled faintly of lilac. Unlike most walls of tree-houses, this room's solid, windowless walls were painted with a slick amber stain that shone in the low candle-glow, highlighting the arched, looped grain of the wood. A plush black rug that might have been sewn from spider hair covered the floor.

"I'm sorry to summon you here in the wee hours of the morning, but this was an urgent situation," Kato rumbled. He sat hunched over his mahogany desk, a log-book spread across the polished wood surface. His stooped, aging form was swallowed up by the rippling folds of his robe.

"I understand," Sylas responded. "You wouldn't call me if it was insignificant."

"That's correct; I wouldn't." Kato tapped the end of his quill pen against his cheek and glanced down thoughtfully at the log-book, as if pondering what to enter in it.

"For what reason have I been summoned?"

Kato set down his pen, sat up straight, and breathed in deeply. "One of your fellow patrol guards-the other division-informed me just a few hours ago that they apprehended twelve strangers."

"Strangers?" Sylas repeated, confused. "What do you mean, 'strangers?'"

"They were Endermen like you and I, but they were not of this tree-house village. In fact, they were not of our world at all. They were from the dimension that you originated from."

Sylas's eyes went wide. "They were from the End?"

"Indeed. And the reason I found this matter to concern you, is that they claimed they were looking for you. They made it clear they were looking for 'Sylas Sunvaez.'"

Sylas touched a paw-hand to his forehead, stunned. "Wha-Why? What do they want with me?"

Kato shrugged. "I was hoping you would know."

"I'm at a loss. It's been ten years since I was banished from the End. Did they change their minds?"

"Well, why don't you ask them?"

* * *

Sylas went home that night, but sleep evaded him. He turned over and over in bed, getting wrapped up like a burrito in his blankets. A million questions and a hundred worst-case scenarios streamed through his mind.

 _Are they Rebels or Followers? How did they get here? What do they want with me? Should I even go talk to them? Ughh…_

He stumbled groggily out of bed at the first grey glow of an overcast dawn, before Solarae and the kids were awake, and threw on his cloak. Its thick oily wool would repel any rain that decided to make an appearance that morning. After quickly downing a quick breakfast of bread (no time to toast), he hastened down to the bottom level of the the great tree, out into the gardens and courtyards. A sleepy night watchmen directed him to Niat-nuom Courtyard, where the detained Endermen were being kept.

 _Niat-nuom_ meant "fair field" in Ender, and it was an apt name for the good-sized, unadorned grass field enclosed by a low stone wall. A small wooden gate served as the portal in and out. A few dandelions and bluets sparsely dotted the ground, but other than that, it was just a bare, mostly flat plain. Tied by twine onto the stone poles were fist-sized obsidian orbs, split into four quarters. A redstone glow pulsed in the cracks, making the glowstone shards embedded into the obsidian flicker in synchronisation.

As soon as Sylas stepped inside of Niat-nuom courtyard, he instantly felt a chill course through his being. Something stalled in his bloodstream, then coldly ebbed away as if it had evaporated into thin air. The obsidian orbs were teleport-blockers, a marvel of redstone engineering. Normally, they were kept under strict lock and key in the laboratories, only to be used in the highly unlikely chance of a group of hostile Endermen from a foreign tribe invading the Farlanders' city (not all of the Endermen in the Overworld wanted to live in a peaceful city.) Arranged in a ring, the doodads had turned Niat-nuom into a fine "no-teleport zone" to keep in the captives.

"I was told to come here," Sylas explained to a patrol guard standing by.

"Indeed. Kato informed me that you would be coming. They're over there." He pointed his sword at the other end of the courtyard, where a line of a dozen black figures in glitzy clothes sat with their backs resting against the wall. Then he turned a shoulder to Sylas and grumbled about being stuck guarding (he called it "babysitting") a bunch of spoiled End citizens and not able to teleport.

"Excuse me," Sylas said, walking over to them. "Are you the people from the End?"

"Yeah," said a tall, lanky one. He had on a silver suit with a black leather sword belt running round his waist and over his shoulder; the sword had been confiscated, for reasons obvious. "We're looking for someone called Sylas Sunvaez."

Sylas breathed in sharply, his mind racing as he contemplated how to answer. _This is it. Truth or lie? Truth or lie? So risky either way. I have to make my decision…_

"That's me."


	19. Confrontation

**Confrontation**

"That's me," Sylas said, a little more forcefully than necessary. "Now what do you want with me?"

The guy he had been talking to, apparently the spokesman for the group, looked taken aback. "Sylas? Don't you remember us?"

Sylas looked him up and down. There was something oddly familiar about this guy, but he couldn't place it. Or he was just imagining it. He shook his head.

"Come on, man. It's me. Kalvin. And Bayata and Klaudius and the others! Don't tell me you don't remember us!"

Ah! Now he could place a name on the faces that stared back at him, nagging him with their weird familiarity. "Oh, wow! It _is_ you, and you, and you. Fantastic! Sorry about not recognising you all...but it has been ten years, you know."

"Well, now that we have properly re-introduced ourselves...would you mind untying us?" Kalvin swung his back to Sylas, showing his wrists, which were knotted together behind him with a rope.

"Oh. Of course." Sylas drew his long claws, bent down to their level, and sliced through the loops of twine, one by one. Within a minute, all twelve Rebels were free. They murmured a chorus of 'thank you' and stood up, brushing grass snippets off of their glamorous clothes.

"'It's been ten years and all…' You don't exactly look like the youth-boy that got thrown out of the End a decade ago either, chief," Bayata remarked as she rose to her feet. "You're a man now, Sy."

"These are the ones from the End!" a booming voice behind them remarked. Sylas jumped in surprise and whirled round to see Kato striding toward them. "I was much indulged to speak with the ones named Kalvin and Bayata last night, but it is a real pleasure to meet all twelve of you."

The chief stopped and stood next to Sylas. He looked delighted by the group of twelve Rebels who had arrived at his city.

"Yes. Twelve spoiled little snobs," the guard who had apprehended them grumbled as he stepped forward. "They even lied to me that they were from the End!"

"Peace, Fidel," Kato scolded him. "They have not come with harmful intent."

"So they say!" Fidel defended. "How can you be sure they aren't lying? The one called Kalvin lied to me. He said he was one of us. Can you believe it?"

"He lied to you? Oh...that is disgraceful. But I can understand why, I suppose, being under duress and all…"

"Under duress!" Fidel cried indignantly. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard all morning-"

"Fidel, it's only been light out for an hour."

"-regardless, they were not under duress, sir. I was not threatening them in the slightest!"

"Excuse me, sir?" Bayata interrupted, raising a paw. "I have a question."

"What is it?" Kato replied, turning his attention away from the annoying guard.

"Kato, you found our kind very fascinating when we explained End culture to him, but he did not tell us anything in the way of the Farlander's story of origin. May I ask, then, why Fidel dislikes us so?"

"I'll handle this story-telling, thank you," Fidel stepped in before Kato could so much as open his mouth, and stood as tall as he could before the Rebels, looking down upon them with a condescending glare. "Perhaps it is a misnomer to call our kind the Endermen, when we truly originate from this world, the Overworld."

Thirteen jaws, Sylas' included, dropped in shock.

"Ah, yes, that's the typical reaction. You see, long ago, our race was united upon the earth and quite content. But not too shortly after the very great trees that house our civilisation were planted, a few were...not satisfied with this world, the Overworld. I cannot imagine why this would be so. They were in want of nothing. But alas, even that was ostensibly not sufficient for them. They sought a new world, despite dissuasion from their countrymen. Acquiring knowledge of forbidden magic, they murdered, yes, _murdered_ their own kind to harvest enough pearls for the diabolical deed. And all that foul magic corrupted innocuous cobblestone into a frail white rock, pocked like honeycomb, from which they built a portal and opened an entirely new dimension filled with that new magic rock and little else. As if that was an improvement over the Overworld. Having found the 'end' of their days in the Overworld, they christened their new dimension none other than the End."

After Fidel had finished, a sober silence hung over the assembly. No-one knew quite how to respond. The minutes trickled by.

"That's not what we learned as kids. We were taught that our kind was native to the End," Kalvin protested at last.

"Is your government known for its honesty?" Fidel retorted.

Kalvin pressed his mouth together tightly. "No...not really honest at all, actually. In fact, the crisis in the End is the exact reason we came here…"

"Oh, so you are refugees, then?" Kato asked, elbowing Fidel aside. "In that case, I will see to it that some beds and a pot of hot soup are prepared for you posthaste-"

"No, no. While that is very kind of you, we have not come here to stay," Bayata dismissed. "You see, a monstrosity called the Ender-Dragon holds all of the End in her iron claw. She forces our kind to build massive obsidian towers to hold Ender-crystals, then makes some spend long hours guarding the crystals so she can indulge in their energy and vitality while polluting the End atmosphere with negative magic that blocks our teleporting signals. And if that wasn't enough, she also murders our people for no reason. She's divided our people into two factions, Followers and Rebels. She has to be stopped."

"Mercy me!" Kato exclaimed. "That is abhorrent! Unspeakably terrible! Indeed, ma'am, something must be done at once. But what involvement does the Overworld have with this plan of yours?"

"We need Sylas Sunvaez if we're to stand a chance against the Dragon," Kalvin said. "We will take him back to the End with us so he can defeat her."

"WHAT!" Sylas screeched, loudly enough for Fidel, Kato, and several of the Rebels to recoil and cover their ears. "You're going to drag me back to the End? What? How? WHY?"

"Calm down!" Kalvin cried, gritting his teeth nervously. He had not been expecting this reaction. Normally Sylas was so reasonable! Why was he so upset all of a sudden?

"I can't go back there," Sylas whimpered. "I-I've been gone too long. I can't fight a Dragon all by myself; are you crazy? And there's hordes of Followers to fight through to even get to the Ender-Dragon in the first place."

"You aren't alone. We'd be on your side. And I think a lot of the folks living here would be happy to join us and help."

"But you don't understand," he sniffled. "I'm scared, and I-I…"

Just then, the gate to Niat-nuom Courtyard creaked open and a new arrival stepped into their midst. Two arrivals, actually, if you counted the baby on her shoulder.

"Sylas, where have you been?" Solarae asked, approaching him. "You had me worried sick when I woke up this morning and you were missing. What are you doing in Niat-nuom, of all places?"

The Rebels, particularly Kalvin and Bayata, couldn't help but stare, not sure what to make of this Enderwoman in her wooly grey sweater and purple plaid skirt, scolding Sylas about wandering off.

"Who is _that_?" Kalvin wondered aloud.

Sylas turned to him and smiled. "Kalvin, Bayata, and others, I'd like you to meet Solarae." He lifted his arm and Solarae did the same, showing off their matching bracelets. He then picked up Ayva and set her on his shoulders piggyback-style. "And this is my daughter, Ayva."

"Oh my gosh," Bayata babbled. "You married a Farlander."

Kalvin was stunned. "Is this why you're hesitant to leave?"

"I'm not just _hesitant_ to leave," Sylas said smoothly, giving Ayva back to Solarae and striding toward Kalvin. "I'm not _going_ to leave."

"Now, Sylas, there is no need to be unreasonable," Kalvin began, eyes narrowing. "You really must understand-"

"Who's the unreasonable one here? You and your band of friends intrude my city and demand that I drop everything just so I can help you with some incredibly dangerous and likely poorly-thought-out plan to solve an issue that's not even my responsibility?"

"But it is your responsibility!" Kalvin protested. "Please, listen, I have something important to say! You're-"

"No, Kalvin. I am no longer a prince of the End, and as such its affairs and crises, though undoubtedly terrible, are no longer my concern. My responsibilities are those of a husband and a father now. Good day."

With Solarae following, Sylas whipped round, cloak swishing, and marched out of Niat-nuom.


	20. Concession

**Concession**

"He was so out of line," Sylas fumed to Solarae as they sat in the parlour of their house. He was buffing some scratches on his sword and inspecting the blade for rust. "Telling me that I had to drop everything and head over to the End to single-handedly defeat the Ender-Dragon. Either he's being completely, unreasonably selfish, or he's gone stark raving mad!"

"I don't know, love," Solarae responded, spreading an unfinished quilt across her lap and marking some areas to be hemmed with a piece of chalk. "But don't you think you could have been a tad more gentle?"

"Gentle? No-one tells me to abandon my community and family and gets a kind, civil reaction from me. Like I said: out of line, completely out of line!"

"Ma-ma." Dominik trotted into the room, dragging a plushy creeper (whom he'd named "Sneaks") along behind him. "Sneaks has an ouchy."

Solarae gently laid the stuffed animal across her lap and inspected it. Sneaks' "ouchy" was a popped seam along its back. "Ah, yes. Never fear, it's nothing a few stitches won't solve." She unravelled a length of green thread from a spool and slipped it through the eye of her favourite sewing needle. Going back and forth with a neat whip-stitch, she closed up the "ouchy" in less than a minute, then handed the plushy back to her son.

"All better," she said cheerfully. Dominik beamed and hugged his stuffed animal friend to his chest.

"Ahem. Solarae?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Do you really think I was too harsh?"

"In all honesty, yes."

"Should I go talk to Kalvin again?"

"That would be a good idea."

Sylas was quiet for half a minute, looking down at his feet. Then, he asked meekly, "Can you come with me this time?"

* * *

Kalvin paced in angry circles on the grass. Occasionally, he stopped to kick a rock aside. All the while, he muttered irately about Sylas' refusal to help.

"...totally unreasonable. And selfish and wimpy and-"

"Kal-vin," Bayata said loudly, sharply enunciating both syllables. "That's enough."

"Fah! I can complain about him if I want to."

"Did you ever stop to consider his side of the issue?"

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"I mean, don't you think it's a little unfair to expect him to drop everything and rush to our aid? He's been living here for _ten years_ , Kalvin!"

"And we've been living _there_ -under that _tyrant_ -for ten years!" he retorted.

They didn't get to argue for much longer, because the gate creaked open and Sylas strode up to them, Solarae at his side. Kalvin watched him, trying to read for any nonverbal cues. His gait was smooth, unhurried, and moderate-not too authoritative, but not defeated and meek, either.

"I apologise for my rashness," Sylas said, "but I am still unwilling to join you on this quest to return to the End and defeat the dragon."

Kalvin groaned in disappointment. "We really need you for this. Look, there's something I didn't get to tell you earlier because you left in a huff. You are-"

"I know I was a prince," Sylas interrupted. "But those days are gone."

"That wasn't what I was trying to say." Kalvin shook his head. "It wouldn't matter, anyway. The Ender-Dragon killed all of the royal Endermen years ago."

Sylas blinked, shocked.

"Yes, she did. Not shortly after you were banished, actually. It was...really quite tragic. I don't want to discuss it further."

"You don't have to. But what else am I, then?"

"Well, I must say that being a prince's valet can be a very privileged position at times. Your father entrusted a special bit of information to me when you were young, that not even you knew."

Sylas eyed him dubiously. "Which would be?"

"You are a _geheimsamen_ Enderman. You have magic."

"Now you're just making things up."

"No, I'm serious. You have energy magic deep inside your being. It will reveal itself at your time of greatest need and responsibility. And I can't imagine any time more needful and responsible than killing the Ender-Dragon."

"And why wouldn't my parents tell me this?"

Kalvin rubbed the back of his neck. "Technically, you're not supposed to know until you turn 20. A coming-of-age thing, you know. And you were banished when you were 19, so you never got a chance to find out."

"I suppose that makes sense," Sylas admitted.

Kalvin gave him a hopeful look.

Sylas noticed this and rubbed his paws over his face, frustrated. "That was not an agreement that I'll come with...ughhhh...You're not backing down on this, are you?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no."

"All right...all right...Do you have a plan, at least, beyond simply bringing me to the End? I'm not helping if you don't have an idea of what you want to do. At least, I'm assuming that you're the ringleader of this mission."

"Well, Bayata helps."

Sylas glanced over at Bayata, who waved timidly.

"Basically, what we had in mind is that all of us Rebels would lead an attack on the Followers to take them down, because we're going to need to weaken their force before we can even think about getting to the Ender-Dragon," Kalvin explained. "Once their lines start to waver, you sneak past and go for the Dragon. And the magic should reveal itself."

"What if it doesn't?" Sylas prodded.

Kalvin shrugged. "It'll be fine. There is no reason for it not to reveal itself at that time. Like I said, never a more needful or responsible time. Anyway, once you can get to the Dragon, you'll use your magic to defeat her while we fight the Followers and keep them from advancing. Once the Dragon is dead, it will kill a lot of their morale. They might even surrender then and there. Is this making sense?"

"Of course. I'm glad you do, in fact, have a plan. But I'm still not so sure about this magic I supposedly have. Is there a particular thing I need to do to summon it?"

"No, it should happen automatically. You should be able to feel it once it activates. Like, in your veins."

"Ah...Very well...We shall go forth with your plan."

"Yes!" Kalvin pumped a triumphant fist in the air.

Solarae grinned excitedly. "I'll go see how many citizens will come with us."

 **A/N: We'll be getting some action pretty soon...**


	21. Preparation

**Preparation**

Niat-nuom was abuzz with activity under the noonday sun. Furnaces, workbenches, and anvils had been brought to the field by Kato and Fidel, and some of the more crafty Rebels were hard at work smelting steel, cutting leather, and chipping stone. Their craftsmanship transformed the raw materials into fine armour and weapons.

Kalvin watched eagerly as some warriors, coming home after their shifts switched, approached the courtyard and leaned against the stone wall, curious as to what was going on. A pleased smiled tugged at the corner of his mouth as a few looked at each other, then vaulted over the wall and trotted over to where they were working.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Kalvin said to a trio who were observing Klaudius as he scraped a knife along the body of a bow, carving it into shape. They turned and glanced at Kalvin in that strong, silent way expected of brave warriors.

"You seem intrigued by our work. Would you be willing to help us? We have a daring and noble mission to do, and we could use all the assistance we can acquire."

The threesome looked at each other, then at Kalvin, and then nodded solemnly.

"Bravery is our specialty."

* * *

"Hold still," a Rebel Enderwoman scolded Sylas as she attempted to fit a piece of steel torso armour on him. "I can't put this on if you don't stop squirming."

"It's uncomfortable," Sylas complained. "I'm not used to wearing heavy armour."

"You're going to need the best protection of anyone here if you're fighting the Ender-Dragon herself," the woman replied as she tightened the straps. "There. What do you think?"

Sylas stood up and examined his new suit of armour-a shell around his torso, dense chain-mail for leggings, a winged helm, and boots with tiny silver wings on the ankles. Each piece was forged expertly from steel, padded with sponge, and painted purple and black in a graceful leaf-and-vine pattern. The chest plate had slots in the back that a pair of elytra could be fastened into. Attached to his wrists and covering his hands were leather gauntlets dyed purple. He tested them by drawing his claws. As they slid out from their hiding-places inside his fingertips, they caught on steel sheathes that telescoped and covered the upperside of the claws, for protection during a fight. Finally, he had a black leather sword-belt running round his waist and over his shoulder. It had a scabbard on his hip, in which he stored his favourite blade that had felled many a zombie and quite a few skeletons and spiders.

Just then, Solarae teleported next to him from over on the other end of Niat-nuom. She'd been outfitted with a lighter armour fit for an archer-a leather shell over her torso and a chain-mail skirt. The leather had been painted in the same shade of purple and the same leaf pattern as Sylas' armour. She held a black ebony longbow in her right hand and used the other to sling a matching quiver full of arrows over her shoulder.

"You pull off the warrior woman look very well, Solarae." Sylas grinned.

"Why thank you, dear. You don't look so bad, yourself." Solarae smirked back at him.

"What about the Farlanders? How many are coming with us?"

"I've gathered all of the able-bodied men and women from the city," Solarae informed him. "Dominik and Ayva are staying with my parents while we're gone. Is the portal ready?"

"I don't know. Let's go check."

* * *

The company of End-venturers made their way through the city to the entry/exit gates, for the portal had been constructed beyond the outer walls and some ways away from the city. As they went along (walking instead of teleporting to keep the group together and prevent collisions) more and more Farlanders from the city joined the group, just as Solarae had said, widening their ranks from about thirty Rebels and guards to well over two hundred Enderpeople. And it wasn't just Enderpeople, too. They also had a cavalry of Ghasts and tall horses, and a team of tamed creepers.

Somehow, they managed to squeeze the entire company through the gates and out onto a cleared-out area of the woodland outside, where a team of portal geeks were tinkering with a large, shallow dish of obsidian (as they couldn't move bedrock) and checking to make sure the four modified Ender Crystals sunken into the glassy rock were functioning properly.

"Is the portal ready?" Solarae asked a geek prodding one of the crystals with a small metal tool. He set down his tool and slid his goggles up onto his forehead, then nodded at her.

"Yep. We had a bit of a technical error with this particular crystal, but it was nothing a little redstone wiring couldn't solve."

"Splendid," Solarae replied.

"All right, everyone!" Kalvin shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to be heard by everyone in the massive group. For once, he wished he had a voice as loud as Kato's, or that maybe Kato could be the spokesperson for the moment, but the chief had to stay behind to keep peace and order in the city. A patrol guard teleported over to Kalvin, handed him his shofar, saluted, and disappeared back into the group.

"Oh...Thank you, whoever that was." Kalvin put the end of the ram's horn to his mouth and spoke, which greatly amplified the sound. "The time has come to make our venture to the End. Sylas Sunvaez will be battling the Ender-Dragon. But the rest of us will have to contend with the lemmings that Follow the Dragon. I cannot guarantee that all of us will make it back home alive. In that respect, your sacrifices are greatly appreciated and we are eternally in your debt. Fight hard and well, brave men and women. My gratitude, and those of my brothers and sisters from the End, goes to your people."

Kalvin set the shofar down, to thunderous applause and cheers of "Yeeeeeeah!" and "We can do it!" and "Freedom for the End!" He couldn't help but smile at their willingness to come to their aid. He took a deep breath and approached the portal as the rest watched. He flashed one last smile to the group, then jumped in.

 **A/N**

 **PREPARE FOR BATTLE.**


	22. Summoning

**Summoning**

The group of Rebels remaining in the End sat or stood round the portal impatiently. The goo burbled quietly in the background, but otherwise it remained stagnant. Portal geeks pretended to be monitoring the crystals for signs of abnormalities in their energy pulses, or occasionally fiddled with the wiring they'd added to stabilise the energy balance, but in reality they were just bored out of their skulls and needed something to do. The other Rebels tried to keep themselves busy by chatting about what plans they had for post-Ender-Dragon life, playing tiddlywinks with loose rocks scattered on the ground, or just watching the bruised purple sky and thinking. All the while, a team of scouts rotated positions every hour or so, keeping an eye out for Followers.

"Gee, I hope Kalvin and the others make it back all right from the Overworld," commented one Rebel casually.

"Yeah," agreed another. "I've heard the Overworld is a terrible place. I hear it rains this terrible stuff, stuff that burns our skin, right out of the sky. Something called 'water,' it was."

"Sounds awful. Definitely would not want to visit it."

"Guys! We're back!" Kalvin shouted as his head popped up out of the portal, startling everyone nearby. "The Overworld is a wonderful place! You definitely would want to visit it."

Kalvin waded out of the portal, dripping goop all over the ground, and was followed shortly by Bayata and the other ten Rebels that had originally come with them. Then, in groups of twos and threes, Endermen from the Overworld-Farlanders-joined the group, jumping or teleporting out of the portal. There were twenty of them...fifty...eighty...one hundred...one hundred forty...one hundred seventy...over two hundred! And if that wasn't enough, a cloud of twenty Ghasts emerged, followed by about fifty tamed creepers, both of which wore suits of black-and-purple armour.

"Whoa!" the Rebels gasped as the Farlanders surged into their ranks. "Looks like Kalvin and Bayata brought some friends."

Kalvin went over to the portal, stood on the rim, and lifted his shofar to his mouth to amplify his voice as he gave instructions. "Attention everyone. Hello? Rebels? Farlanders? ...Thank you. We stand upon the battleground. We have mere minutes before the Followers take notice of us and attack, so we need to be ready. I need our best warriors to come and form a front line, and the archers and Ghast cavalry to bring up the back-there's a nice cliff nearby that you can stand on and shoot from. The rest of you, creepers included, you'll be the general force. Group into left and right flanks, and back and front too."

He paused and waited for the army to follow through with the orders. The mass of people formed itself into a chevron-shaped flying wedge, with a narrow line of heavily armoured warriors gilding the front. A faint split was broken vertically down the group, separating it into left and right flanks as commanded, as well as a horizontal front/back division. The archers and Ghast riders fell back, teleporting onto the mid-sized cliff that rose up behind the portal.

"Portal geeks!" Kalvin turned his attention to the lanky, armourless Enderpeople gathered round the portal, watching him expectantly through their goggles. "I need y'all to disable the portal temporarily, please. It's the safest option right now."

The scientists grumbled about Kalvin calling them "geeks", but they understood the necessity for deactivating the portal. They carefully dismantled the wiring wrapped about the crystals and pulled them out from their moorings in the obsidian. The portal made a slurping sound and disappeared neatly in a puff of blue smoke, leaving the empty stone dish behind.

"Great. Thank you. Now that we're all assembled, it's time to-"

Kalvin broke off. An army of green-eyed, green-armoured Followers approached, marching in a slightly disorganised double wave. There were substantially more of them, probably about 1,300 compared to Kalvin's army of 800 or so. In the distance, the shadowy form of the Ender-Dragon swept across the sky, roaring. He knew she wouldn't come down to fight them, though, as she considered herself too important to meddle with what she believed to be a silly, easily smooshable rebellion.

Kalvin said to Sylas, "Hold back for now. Once the line of lemmings weakens and we start to push them back, Solarae will shoot a flaming arrow, and that'll be the signal. Sneak past enemy lines, and the Dragon is all yours. I'm trusting you."

Sylas nodded and teleported off to the sidelines to await the signal. Kalvin turned his attention back to his army, drawing his sword. "All right! No going back, men and women! For the End! For freedom! For all things good and right, ADVAAAAAAAANCE!"

* * *

The cliff loomed about eighty feet over the plain of End-stone. The chain-mail links on Solarae and Bayata's armour skirts clinked with the slightest movement. The Ghasts whimpered and squeaked quietly behind them. They gripped their bows and watched the two armies surge forward, rapidly closing the gap of open space separating them.

"What's the point of even having archers? Can't us Endermen dodge arrows?" Bayata questioned, examining her bow. There was a terrific crash below as the armies collided in a mess of howling, screeching combat. A handful of fighters on both sides were cut down almost immediately. The first blood had been drawn.

"Not arrows from these kinds of bows," Solarae responded. She nocked an arrow onto her bow, brought it up to eye level, and stretched back the string, taking aim. She released the string, flinging the arrow across the sky at an astounding speed. It arched in midair and landed on one of the warriors on the second line of Followers, felling him in one shot. Bayata let out a low whistle, impressed.

Taking the cue, other archers brought up their bows and a second later, a flurry of arrows streaked across the air like shooting stars. Enemies fell in droves.

"Take out the warriors on the edges of their ranks!" Solarae cried. "Don't let them wrap round our troops!"

Taking this as a command particularly for them, the Ghast cavalry spurred their mounts to take off. One by one, the giant white octopus-like animals pushed off of the ground, floated over the archers, and soared to the peripheries of the army. Filling the atmosphere with loud, ragged screeches, the Ghasts fired upon the edges of the Follower army, blasting charges of blazing red flame at them.

But the undeterred Followers continued their assault, relentlessly cutting down Rebels as well as they could. They had an air force of their own: elytra. The beetle-like wings whistled as the flying Endermen sliced through the air. There were small blades attached to the ends of the wings, matching the small blades that the airborne warriors carried as well. They swooped in to fight the Ghast riders, screaming a wild battle cry.

Solarae noticed Bayata watching the battle fearfully. "Bayata! Don't fear. We can win this. Our troops are better prepared. Their Ender-Dragon isn't lifting a claw to help the Followers. And that's not even our best advantage."

"What is?"

"We are fighting to be free. Fighting for good!"

* * *

Sylas's paws twitched as he watched the war unfold before him. He resisted the urge to draw his sword and teleport right into the fray. These were his people, and they needed him! It was killing him to not be allowed to help.

Panting from the excitement, he tensed up when he saw the lines of Followers falter. He almost made a break for it, but then he remembered that he had to wait for the signal first. A few minutes later, a bright flaming arrow painted an orange streak across the dark purple sky before taking out a hapless straggler on the farthest lines of Followers. He gasped, muttered something about that being the signal, and teleported away, going straight for the awaiting Ender-Dragon.


	23. Armageddon (part I)

**Armageddon**

The sounds of battle ebbed away into a low rumbling far off as Sylas ran and teleported closer to the Ender-Dragon's lair. His paw-feet silently padded against the rough, bumpy End-stone as he dashed through the maze of city towers and obsidian pillars. No-one was in the End city save for him; all of the Followers were fighting the Rebels. It was calm and quiet in the city, but chillingly so. Shivers ran down Sylas' back.

And then, a snarl cut through the silence. Sylas gasped and looked up to see the huge black form of the Ender-Dragon swoop past overhead. However, she didn't seem to notice him as she circled round again, gliding on the air currents her giant wings had created. The Dragon turned abruptly and alighted heavily upon a pillar, digging her claws into the obsidian. No Ender crystal stood on the peak of the pillar, much to the old Dragon's chagrin. She cursed the Rebels for stealing it, poked the empty bedrock slab with an irritated growl, then swatted it aside with her giant tail. It flew off of the pillar and crashed mightily into the End-stone island, forming a sizable crater.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_ Sylas hid in a hollow cranny in another pillar, watching the Ender-Dragon take off in a pout. _I sure hope Kalvin was right about the magic stuff. Otherwise, I am quite doomed._ He leaned back, assuming he would lean against the wall in the back of the cranny, but there was no such wall. Instead, he tumbled over and landed on his bottom at the base of a set of steps.

 _Steps? Wait a minute. This isn't just a little hidey-hole...it's a secret staircase._ Sylas twisted round and glanced up. As far as he could tell, the small stairs curled all the way up to the top. He looked at it for a second, considering it, then made his decision.

 _It's now or never._ He murmured a quick prayer for courage and then half-sprinted, half-teleported up the stairs. Up, up, it curled, round and round in a tight spiral up to the top. He crawled out of the small hole at the peak, into the thin cold air atop the giant pillar.

A loud roar rattled in his ears. The Ender-Dragon had caught sight of him. Sylas' heart thudded in his chest as she landed atop the pillar next to his and stood on her hind legs, rearing up to her full height of eighteen feet not including her thickly muscled tail.

"So, the mighty Sylas Sunvaez!" the Dragon mocked, spreading her expansive wings to look even bigger, which sounded like the unfolding of the world's largest set of leather armour as they stretched out. "I'm not impressed."

Sylas had no clever retort. He stood squarely, eyes narrowed in determination.

"Oh, you blistering fool," she hissed, her voice hard and scratchy like rocks in an earthquake scraping against each other. Her jaw snapped like a crocodile's when she talked, and her thin forked tongue slipped between the rows of curved fangs. "What, do you really think you're going to scare me into freeing the Endermen? Fah! Don't waste my time."

"Ender-Dragon," Sylas said, trying to keep his voice calm; he showed her his empty paws. "please stop this. We don't have to fight. I can call off the army. Please let these people go free."

"No way, Moses," the Dragon said scornfully. "I want my power. One pitiful Enderman isn't going to wrest it away from me. Prepare to have an example made out of you. Prepare for death. Violent, painful death."

With a rumbling growl, the Ender-Dragon pushed off from the pillar and pumped her massive wings, sending gales of wind whooshing through the air. Sylas dug his feet into the ground to resist being blown away. The Dragon roared and dove at Sylas, her deadly black claws drawn and poised to kill.

 _If the magic is going to show up, now would be a nice time_ , Sylas thought, panicking. The Dragon was coming in fast and hard-no way to dodge her. He covered his eyes in fear and shame and hoped he wouldn't feel too much pain.

And then something surged from his heart, radiating through his bloodstream and shooting to the tips of his fingers and toes, until every part of his being was touched by the warm, invigourating energy. He felt the energy cluster near his back and it seemed to stretch itself outwards, into long strands, and twist in the air behind. Sylas glanced over his shoulder and gasped.

The outline of a pair of large feathered wings had been drawn in glowing purple, spread and tensed for flying. They were perfect; not a feather out of place. Despite being made of pure energy, they were as strong and solid as flesh-and-blood wings. A corona of light shimmered round him. This was his _geheimsamen_ magic. Swift, smart, and free.

Sylas smiled and jumped vertically. The wings did the rest, fluttering and catching the air beneath them. He didn't even need to will them to move. They seemed to already know. The movements were so natural, it was as if he had been flying all his life.

The Ender-Dragon halted mid-flight, rearing abruptly and then hovered, flapping her rough leather wings to stay aloft. She looked shocked, confused, and then angry. "How are you doing that? What kind of trickery is this?"

Sylas shrugged. Again, he had nothing substantial to say.

"Well, no matter!" the Dragon snarled. "It's just a pair of stupid wings! I have wings, too. It'll still be hardly a challenge to make an end of you." She flew at him again, jaw wrenched open to display all of her horrible fangs. A red glow pulsed at the back of her throat.

Sylas held his paw-hands in front of him, and a few purple sparks exploded in the space between them. The sparks then blossomed into flame, forming a charge of purple energy in his paws. He locked glares with the Ender-Dragon.

"Don't you dare throw that," the Dragon threatened, swiping her claws through the air at him.

Sylas disobeyed. He lobbed the ball of energy at her. She twisted her head and neck out the way, but the magic strike still slammed into her shoulder, knocking her off balance. Her wings convulsed and she dipped towards the ground before righting herself.

Having been foiled twice already in her attempts to kill Sylas on the first charge, the Ender-Dragon was furious. She roared and threw her head forward, breathing a cloud of hellfire-red flame out of her mouth. The blazing crimson fire, glaring against the rhythm of black and purple in the End, curled and coiled out from her jaws like a mass of snakes.

Sylas gasped and quickly waved his paw-hands in front of him, forming a thin shield of the purple magic. The flame hit the shield and hissed as it spread over the slick surface, cooling and ebbing away. The shield shattered into glitter just as the smoke cleared to reveal the Ender-Dragon's forefoot sweeping at Sylas.

"OOF!" The massive, muscled foot struck Sylas from the side, swatting him from the air like a fly and tearing his sword-belt off.. The Ender-Dragon cackled in fiendish glee as he tumbled end over end towards the ground.

Sylas disappeared into a teleport and reappeared back where he was, regaining the lost height. He was bleeding from his shoulder from a cut the Dragon's claw had sliced into his skin and a profound bruise marred the skin on his hip under his clothes and fur, but other than that he remained largely unhurt.

By now, the Dragon was absolutely furious. Her eyes burned a hateful green, and evil-looking runes glowed in a matching green all over her scaly body. She snarled, snapped, and foamed like a rabid wolf in her rage.

The dark runes on Sylas' fur were aglow, too. But his were innocent and pure, pleasing to the eye, and shone a bright purple to match his _geheimsamen_ magic. The End atmosphere vibrated with energy. The vestiges of the Dragon's smoke condensed into piles of clouds in a ring round the End island, that occasionally crackled with lime-green lightning, followed by a roaring boom of thunder.

The Dragon nosedived and swept under Sylas, in an attempt to undercut him. The Enderman was quick, though, slipping away with a thrust of his powerful wings, and the Ender-Dragon's weapon of a body cut through nothing but air. However, he had made the mistake of turning his back on her. With a bash of her paw, she swatted him from the sky again, knocking his helmet off. Sylas teleported just before his body fatally impacted the ground, though the same could not be said for his helmet. The well-forged piece of steel hit the ground and shattered into jagged bits of metal.

Swooping upwards to meet her again, Sylas lunged forward, claws drawn now that he had lost his sword. He zoomed over her right wing, reached down with his right arm, and raked his claws across the smooth surface. The leathery flesh, assaulted by the swiftness and steel, gave way like butter. Four long, deep gashes were gouged into her wing. The Dragon reacted with a shrill, ragged cry that sounded more like a scream than a roar, and veered dangerously off-balance. She flipped over in midair and crashed heavily into a pillar, dislodging several large chunks of obsidian that rained down on the ground below.

The Ender-Dragon spun round and round, twirling as she scooped upwards. She swayed to her right, off-balance from her wounded wing. Sylas ducked to avoid a jet of angry flame that came rushing at him.

The Dragon unleashed a torrent of obscenities at him, smoke pouring fiercely from her nostrils. "You idiot! You wrecked my wing. You'll pay for that, fool!"

Sylas' wings pumped harder, a purple blur over his back, as he swooped to avoid the Ender-Dragon's headfirst, bared-teeth rush at him. The purple grew until he was completely enveloped by it. He was now a violet comet, shooting across the End sky.

The Ender-Dragon reared up, girding herself to breathe another jet of flame. Unfortunately for her, that left her belly exposed. Sylas the magic comet collided with her scaly gut, throwing her several metres backwards. Stunned, the Dragon shook her head in confusion before lunging at Sylas yet again. In a desperate gambit, he glommed onto her foreleg, and they spun over and over together, a flashing blur of green, black, and purple, plummeting to earth.

The Ender-Dragon rolled over backwards, wings pinned under her back, which was a terrible mistake. She and Sylas crashed into the ground with a tremendous, earth-shaking impact that made almost the entire island shudder. There was a sickening crunching sound as several bones in her wings snapped under her weight. Sylas was thrown face-first into the plate of rock-hard scales covering her chest. Stars exploded in his vision and he struggled to at least hold on to the Dragon's foreleg as darkness seeped into the corners of his viewfield. His grip slipped and he tumbled to the ground as he passed out.


	24. Armageddon (part II)

**Armageddon, Part II**

Sylas groggily came to, dizziness spinning round his head. His face and chest smarted where he'd slammed into the Ender-Dragon's scale armour, and the wound on his shoulder was caked in crusty dried blood. The gauntlet on his right paw-hand was missing. His arms and legs were nicked with small cuts. He didn't need to take off his torso armour to know that his body was covered in bruises from being bounced round in the steel shell.

 _How long was I out?_ he wondered, standing up despite the protests from his aching body. Remarkably, his magic wings had suffered no damage from the fight. Every last feather was as flawless as it had been when the wings had first formed. A few metres away, the Ender-Dragon was still lying on her back and struggling to right herself, so he couldn't have been unconscious for more than a handful of minutes.

"Hhh'rrragh!" the Ender-Dragon snarled, finally rolling onto her feet. She growled and hissed from the pain as her broken wings shifted back and forth feebly, stuck at unnatural angles. Sylas's gut twisted to even look at the mangled wings. The Dragon may have been evil, but there was no denying that had to be extremely painful. Her scales stood on end and pure murder flashed in her eyes. She sucked in a throaty gasp and let loose with the biggest jet of flame yet. It blew at Sylas in a wall of fire. He frantically summoned a shield and gritted his teeth as the massive wave of heat washed past him, so hot it started to sear his paws through the shield. It dissipated in a cloud of choking black smoke that curled up to meet the growling storm-clouds in the sky.

The grounded Ender-Dragon leapt at Sylas, who teleported away, and landed with a hard thud where he'd just been standing a second ago. She snapped her jaws and tore at the air in her fury.

"Ender-Dragon!" Sylas cried, taking flight and hovering a few feet off the ground to dodge her cheap shots. "Stop this. Please. This battle is nearing its end."

"Like when I make an end of you?" The Dragon slashed her claws through the air at Sylas, raking one across his shin. "I'll never let the Endermen be free. I will rule the End forever!"

"Look at yourself. You can't win this."

There was a long, tense pause, filled with just the panting of the Ender-Dragon like the puffing of a huge bellows, and the occasional rumble of thunder above. At long last, she spoke.

"Fine!" the Dragon roared. "Fine, fine! Kill me, then! Let the whole End watch as you slay a grounded dragon who can barely defend herself. That'll prove how good and righteous you are!"

There was truth to her words, and it cut to Sylas' heart. He touched down and folded in his wings. "No."

"No?" the Dragon fairly laughed, the sound hoarse and rough. "So after all this, you decide to not kill me after all? That's weakness at its finest."

"I prefer to call it 'mercy.'"

"It won't matter what you call it when you're dead." The Dragon tensed and leapt like a cat from her powerful back legs. Sylas teleported away just in time again. Then, he watched with paw-hands over his mouth as the Dragon collided with the obsidian pillar that he'd just been standing in front of. Her head, neck, and front body smashed into the solid stone. The Ender-Dragon slumped to the ground and lay still. A shudder rumbled through the End.

Curiously, Sylas trotted up to the fallen Dragon. She didn't move, didn't breathe. She, not he, had dealt the final blow to the mighty Ender-Dragon. The Enderman watched silently as shafts of purple light peeked out from between her scales and her giant reptilian form turned white and slowly dissolved, pressing and compacting with a creaking, crackling sound like a sizzling firework. When the light finally faded, all that remained was a three-foot-tall egg. It was as dark as night and speckled with violet spots. Sylas picked it up. It was deathly cold to the touch and yet seemed to carry an angry, murderous heat deep under its shell. It was a manifestation of the Ender-Dragon's evil, collected in the form of an egg.

* * *

Sylas, holding the Dragon egg, walked slowly through the battlefield. His _geheimsamen_ magic ebbed away to nothing, now that his greatest responsibility was done. The fighting had ceased, for the Followers had given up once they saw that the Ender-Dragon had died. The sight of the battlefield was still horrifying, however. The corpses of slain warriors from both sides littered the plain, and blood splatters, broken weapons, and arrows were thrown about. Craters from Ghast fireballs pockmarked the land.

Warriors who had survived the battle staggered like zombies through the wreckage, wringing their paws and muttering to themselves. They had shed their battered armour and walked about in just their normal clothes. Neither faction was motivated to fight anymore. In fact, he saw some groups of green-eyes and purple-eyes sitting together and hugging, too grieved in the aftermath of battle to care which side was which.

It pained Sylas to pass through the congregation of broken warriors. There was sorrow everywhere he looked. He didn't even want to carry the foul egg anymore. He tossed it to the ground in disgust and pulled off his armour. He didn't need any dumb trophies. All he cared about was finding Solarae, gathering up his friends, and going home.

But if he didn't find Solarae...The thought made his spine shudder with horror. No...he couldn't think about that. It was too terrible to even bring to mind.

"Solarae?" he called to a group of purple-eyes and two green-eyes. Next to them, Bayata helped injured warriors from both sides, as well as cleaning and bandaging wounds on the Creepers and Ghasts. "Solarae? Where are you?"

"Sylas?" An Enderwoman pushed through the crowd and ran up to him. She, like the others, had taken off her armour and had on just her ordinary clothes, a grey wool sweater and a purple plaid skirt. The silver bracelet on her wrist shone.

They looked at each other for a mere second before they fell into a hug, wrapping their arms round each other and letting their oily tears fall onto each others' shoulders. They stood and cried for minutes on end. There was nothing to say.

Finally, they came out of the hug and Sylas went over to Bayata. "Bayata? Do you know where Kalvin is?"

Bayata halted in the middle of wrapping a bandage round a creeper's injured foreleg. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask."

Sylas' gut turned. "What do you mean?"

Bayata looked as if she was going to cry. She pointed to a group of purple-eyes, who had their backs turned to Bayata and were apparently looking at something. "I couldn't save him."

Sylas gasped and ran towards the group with Solarae right on his heels. The purple-eyes parted to let him through. His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Kalvin lying on the ground, bleeding from two deep gashes in his side and barely moving. He painfully cracked an eye open to see Sylas and Solarae bending down to his level.

"Kalvin! What happened?"

Kalvin responded with an "Not...important." He choked and coughed. "Not...gonna...make it...sorry, Sylas."

"No, no, no, no, no…"

"Yes...It's okay," he rasped. "We fought...well. We won. You won. The End is...free. And I am...free. I'm...dying free. Thanks." Kalvin smiled, the best and truest he'd ever smiled. His bright violent eyes stayed bright until they shut. His head lolled to the side, and then he went still.

Solarae wrapped her arm round Sylas when they stood back up. "I am so sorry."

He returned the hug, having nothing else to say.

* * *

The obsidian portal had been re-activated. But this time, the stars shimmered beautifully in the deep blue goop, now inviting instead of threatening. A small silver plaque dedicated the structure to the memory of Kalvin. Round it, clusters of Farlanders chatted to each other and to their friends from the End, some old and some new, some with purple eyes and some with green.

"I invited anyone who lives in the End to come to the Overworld if they so wished," Bayata explained to Sylas and Solarae. "but most of them wanted to stay here."

"Including you?" Solarae asked, trying not to sound too upset. She didn't like the idea of leaving her new friend (and Sylas' old one) behind.

"Yes, but don't worry," Bayata reassured her. "I can visit, you know. Good luck in the Overworld."

"Good fortune in the End."

A change was coming across the dimension that had been dark and dreary for so long. The menacing purple haze that had hung over the sky for so long had cleared into a light lilac-coloured expanse, and two white suns glowed near the peak of the sky-dome, one larger and one smaller. Pink flower-shaped clouds drifted past. The cold, still air had warmed to a springtime balminess now that the suns were revealed. Clear sunlight bathed the island, the city, the groves of chorus trees, and the towers in light, banishing the shadows.

Sylas smiled at his childhood home, now lively and beautiful, as he and Solarae got ready to jump in the portal. "You know, I don't think it's appropriate to call this place the End anymore."

"I think I know what it should be named instead," said Solarae.

"What would that be?"

"The Beginning."


End file.
